


Siblings

by Oakwyrm



Series: Siblings: Extended Edition [1]
Category: Thrilling Intent (Web Series)
Genre: AU, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Cat annoys Thog, Changelings, Fae & Fairies, M/M, Nonbinary Zalvetta, Other, how come there isn't a Charoth tag yet?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-18 09:49:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 79,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5923966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oakwyrm/pseuds/Oakwyrm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aesling hated her dad. She would probably also have hated her mum, except her mother died giving birth to her so she could potentially have been nice, there was no was for Ashe to know. Still didn't mean she needed to be happy about the situation said mother's poor bargaining skills had landed her in. Not that she would abandon her brother but she'd be damned if she didn't try to find some way to break the curse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter's up, time to continue working on the next one.
> 
> So this is something I've had brewing for a while, ever since and interesting conversation with my mum after listening to Heather Dale's [Changeling Child.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uqOqEU1xwxI) (which you should totally go listen to it's epic)
> 
> More notes at the end of the chapter.

The wind blew cold that night as a shadowy figure left a small town in her wake. Hidden beneath a cloak she ran to the rolling field nearby the town. The one no one dared to approach. Atop a green hillock stood two standing stones, like great pillars against the darkness of the night sky. The woman glanced behind her, but the town lay still and silent, much to her relief. So it was that no one witnessed her walk between the stones and vanish.

Fey creatures danced around her, giggling, inviting her further into their realm with music and foods. She knew enough to decline any food they offered but they didn't leave her side as she approached the throne that now stood before her. Upon the throne sat a woman of ethereal beauty. Her dark hair hung loose over her shoulders, her form was clad in fine silks but here eyes were cold and empty. The woman bowed her head in respect.

“Why have you come here?” the Queen of the Faeries asked. Her voice held so much power the woman suspected she could have rent the earth in two if she wished it.

“I have come to ask a boon,” she said, not lifting her head. Exited whispers rose among the creatures around her. The Queen held up a hand and everyone quieted instantly.

“And what, pray tell, may that be?” the Queen asked. The woman straightened a little.

“A baby,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “I want a baby,” the Queen's eyebrow rose and she leaned forward ever so slightly.

“You would _ask_ us for a changeling?” she sounded incredulous. The woman bowed her head again.

“Yes, your majesty,” she said. She could feel the Queen's gaze on her, curious and a bit suspicious.

“And what have you to offer in return?” the Queen scoffed. “You have no children of your own, that much is plain, else you would not need to seek us out. You would offer us gold, yet I have no need for trinkets at the moment,” the woman bowed her head.

“I have nothing but an empty home,” she said quietly. The Queen leaned back, a condescending look on her face. She raised her hand, ready to dismiss the woman but stopped. Slowly she lowered her hand and narrowed her eyes, the beginnings of an idea forming in her head.

“We have a child among us who has no parents to care for him,” she said slowly. The woman raised her head hopefully. “You could take him, provided we can strike a deal,” the Queen licked her lips.

“Your majesty it is more than I hoped for-” the woman began.

“Do not rush, I have yet to name my price,” the Queen stood from her throne and first then did it become apparent how tall she was. Regal and proud, yet wild as any of her subjects.

“Yes, your majesty,” the woman hurried to say.

“Listen well, all spirits here tonight!” the Queen's voice rose and what little chatter had remained among the Faeries ceased at once, everyone turned to look at her. “On this day I say to you, woman of Meathe, that I shall grant your request. You will leave here this night with a baby in your arms, _if_ you agree to these terms,” the Queen moved forward a bit more, looking down at the woman.

“Should it happen, that you can bear a child and thus are wrong in your belief that you cannot your life will end. If you have come needlessly before me this night, on the Festival of the Moon any child you bear will hold within them an ancient power which they may or may not be able to control,” the Queen stopped speaking and looked down at the woman, waiting for her response. She curtsied deeply.

“I accept these conditions,” she said loudly and clearly.

“Then the contract is signed!” the Queen's voice rang out over the assembled folk and they cheered. A paper bearing the woman's signature vanished from the Queen's hand and one of the Faeries walked to the woman with a bundle.

“Now go, I have no more patience for you,” the Queen waved her hand dismissively and the woman hastily dropped another curtsy before crossing between the stranding stones again and leaving the Faeries behind her.

***

Thirty years later Aesling was woken in the middle of the night by a soft, almost inaudible crying. Quick as she could she scrambled out of bed and to be cot by her window. She cursed as, in her hurry to get to him, she kicked one of the bed posts resulting in a loud bang and an aching toe. As he continued crying her focus shifted back to the child. Carefully she picked him up and rocked him gently. She listened to what his small sobs would tell her and, from sixteen years of practise discerned that this cry wasn't his hungry, pain or general discomfort cry so she assumed something had scared him. Other than her unfortunate mistake.

“Shh, shh, you're safe, I'm here, nothing can touch you,” she said in her most soothing voice. The tiny creature with a puff of white that strangely mirrored her own hair on his head settled. His large, black eyes blinked up at her and his small hands took a hold of one of her fingers. She smiled even as she cast a worried look at her door and strained her ears. If she had accidentally woken their father there would be hell to pay. Her brother's soft giggle brought her attention back to him and she smiled sadly.

She doubted if their father had even looked at the boy once since Ashe was old enough to take care of him by herself. And by old enough she meant eleven. Because that was apparently the age at which it was totally OK to give your daughter full care of her forever-infant older brother. She sat down in the chair by the window and stared out at the small town. It had grown quite a bit since she was little. Luckily for her she lived in a large hollowed-out tree and her father was on the ground floor while she and Charoth shared the top floor. There was little chance he'd heard her, and thus little chance of his cold, passive-aggressive anger. She got some protection by being the Guardian (a position that had not existed until her powers were discovered) but as it stood he wasn't very fond of either of them. Actually no, he liked her but he tended to pretend like Charoth didn't exist so she definitely didn't like him. She sighed, there was little chance she'd see her father at all tomorrow. Or ever again, if her plans went right.

“Just a little longer,” she found herself quietly telling her brother. “We'll be out of here tomorrow,” the idea frightened her, as loath as she was to admit it. Not for herself, Gods no, if it had only been her she'd have been out of Meathe years ago. Charoth was her concern. He was just a baby and her plans would take them far away from civilization. What if he got so sick she couldn't heal him? What if she ran out of soft easily-digestible foods? What if she got overwhelmed by monsters and couldn't protect him?

She closed her eyes and hugged her brother closer to herself, drawing comfort from his tiny, warm presence. Times like these, with the night dark outside her window and Charoth in her arms the things her father kept telling her seemed like absolute truths. She would live out her entire life on Meathe. She would grow old and die alone, save for an infant that never grew and in the end her sacrifice would be ultimately pointless, for who would be fool enough to take him in after she was gone? She shook herself. No, she was taking steps to prevent that. Things would turn out all right, she told herself. She looked down at Charoth again. He was now fast asleep in her arms.

She stood and, careful not to jostle him, laid him down in his cot again. Even in sleep his tiny hand seemed to be reluctant to let go of her finger. She stroked his hair gently as she carefully removed herself from his grip and tip toed back to bed. She fell onto it with little grace and tried to go back to sleep. There was still some time before dawn and she would need to get by with little rest tomorrow. She should probably get all the rest she could now.

***

Ashe was up again at the crack of dawn. Carefully she lifted her still sleeping brother out of his cot and strapped him to her back before briefly glancing around the room. She deemed it organized enough and hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen and set about making breakfast for herself. She fried up the last of the eggs gotten last market day, putting some aside for her father. If he wanted to sleep till noon she sure as all hell wouldn't be here any more to make him a warm breakfast. Not on market day and he knew as much. Which was good for her. He wouldn't be suspicious of her absence from their home.

She glanced at the door to the basement as she snatched a loaf of bread, the hard long-lasting type, from the rack. Quietly the stole up to her room and pulled a pack from beneath her bed. It already held several changes of clothing, a bedroll, several water skins, warm blankets for Charoth, food, basic camping and survival gear. Her hands shook as she placed the bread in the bag. Quickly she shut the pack and pulled it entirely out from under her bed before she could change her mind. On her back Charoth shifted a bit, reminder her of why she was doing this. She closed her eyes briefly, going through the plan in her head once again.

She stood and walked down the stairs, pack in her hand and stole out the back door. Another lucky thing for her was that the tree was well outside of the town, by the edge of the forest. She hid the pack in one of the trees and turned, swiftly making her way to the centre of the town. Despite the incredibly early hour people were already setting up booths and selling their wares. She was known in the town as part of the early morning crowd, and today she made just a little extra sure people noticed her. Not that they wouldn't. People always noticed her. If she had just vanished in the night her father would have fetched her back before she could say “dammit” but if she just followed her usual market day behaviour she should be fine. She took care to buy in a circle, so any extra item she procured would go unnoticed. As usual she found the shop keepers trying to sell her their wares for too low prices, they had stopped trying to give them to her for free after only twenty years of repeatedly telling them not to. She sighed and comforted herself with the thought that she was going to get off this blasted island soon.

As soon as she had everything she needed she walked briskly back home and unlocked the front door. As per her usual market day habits she placed the bought goods in their rightful places before vanishing out the back door. Market day was known to her father and anyone else as her day off. She'd go off somewhere but she'd always be back by next morning the latest. Not so today. She walked out the back door and into the woods where she increased her pace. She grabbed her pack and stuffed the last of her purchases into it even as she moved.

She stopped for a moment to shift Charoth, who had thankfully stayed calm, to her front and shouldered her pack. Then she was off again. Charoth seemed to sense something was different and whined softly. Ashe placed a comforting hand on his back as she continued to navigate through the forest.

“Everything's going to be fine,” she said out loud, as much for herself as to calm her brother. He squirmed a little but seemed to settle. Ashe focused on the path ahead and hurried on. She was going to make sure Charoth had a proper life. Whatever it took she would make sure he grew up. Somehow she had to break this curse. Besides, no matter how much she loved her brother she had no desire to take care of an infant for the rest of her life. Getting away from Meathe and all of its inhabitants was a definite plus as well.

As she moved swiftly between the trees, careful not to leave much of a trail behind while also sticking close to the stream she tried to think of what she should do next. She knew the story of Charoth's adoption well enough, her mother had gone to the Faerie Queen to ask for a child. She'd gotten Charoth, but the baby never grew. When Ashe's mother and father had realized this they had tried to enter the Faerie Realm again, but the old standing stones on Faerie Hill, an unnaturally round grass-clad hillock just outside the town, had refused them.

Then, of course, Ashe's mother had actually gotten pregnant. With Ashe herself. And died. Because that was apparently part of the deal in getting Charoth. Her thoughts were interrupted by the child in question starting to cry. She stopped abruptly and dropped her pack. She lifted Charoth from the harness, ears already picking up what he was trying to tell her. Quickly she dug out one of the sealed jars she had packed and settled on a near by moss-covered stone.

Once Charoth had been properly fed she repacked everything just as efficiently (it helped that she'd had the forethought to leave all the stuff she'd need to care for her brother topmost in her pack) and hurried on her way after making sure there were as few traces as possible of her stop. She fell back into her musings with ease as she moved. She would need to find some way of entering the Faerie Realm first and foremost. She knew that some spirits and fey creatures lived among humans, and that the Realm itself was a place rather than a different dimension. It was just that no one knew where that place was exactly, or how to get to it save for the portals. One of which had been the standing stones but that one had been dead for a while now.

Besides with the portals you never knew where in the Faerie Realm you'd end up, unless it was the Festival of the Moon, in which case you always ended up before the Faerie Queen's throne. Unfortunately for Ashe that only came once every sixty years and the last Festival had been on the day of Charoth's adoption. If Ashe could help it she would rather go on a quest that would quite possible involve risking life and limb in her twenties than in her fifties.

She reached the shore by midday where a good-sized sailing boat was waiting for her. She cast one last look back into the trees before dumping her pack in, unfurling the sail and setting out to sea. It had taken a lot of skill, strength and a measure sneakiness to nab one of the boats the people who lived by the coast used to fish but she thanked her forethought now that she had done it during a storm. People blamed the missing boat on faulty knots and the wind and she had been free to continue her plotting.

Now she set sail for the nearest country to Meathe, Alaran, which was thankfully not that far away. If the weather held as it was now for about two days she'd be there in one and a half. She cast a last look at Meathe and exhaled slowly. There was no going back now.

***

The moon was high in the sky before she slowed the boat. She worked quickly, taking down the sail and casting out the anchor to keep the boat from drifting away in the night. She entered the incredibly small living area the boat had and sat down on her bedroll, munching on a bit of the dried meat she had purchased earlier that day. She stared tiredly out at the moon above her as Charoth slept soundly in his own tiny bedroll with several extra blankets to keep him warm. The reality of the situation, of what she was doing and what it meant for her life was crashing down on her. She hadn't had much opportunity to think of anything other than her plans for the future and keeping on the right course during the day but the dark of night often brought dark thoughts with it.

She was leaving everything she knew, her entire life, behind her. There was no going back. She would never go back to Meathe. She was heading towards danger and uncertainty with a _child._ But if she didn't that child would never grow. Never have his own life. She looked at Charoth again.

“No I'm doing this,” she said quietly to herself. “I have to.”

She finished the last of her supper and crawled into her bedroll. As she slipped into the light, watchful sleep that was her routine the waves rocked the boat gently, as if trying to lull her deeper into her slumber. She shifted, brow furrowing with some unknown concern brought to her by her dreams.

***

Luck was on her side, it seemed. Luck and choosing to leave during the time of year least likely to bring storms to the island. That being spring. She had sailed without much problem for the last three days, a little longer than anticipated sure, but neither she nor Charoth had suffered for it. Some rain had tried to make her life miserable, and drenched her to the bone, but as the boat was one for longer fishing expeditions, with a small liveable area, neither Charoth nor their supplies had gotten wet.

It was evening, quickly darkening to night, on the third day, when she saw her goal before her. It was already dark by the time she reached the shore but that didn't bother her. She was used to navigating the dark, despite not being able to see in it. She quickly pulled the boat up as far to shore as it would go and tied it to a sturdy tree. She would probably be able to move between the islands of the Free Isles in more efficient and safer ways from now on but it never hurt to have a backup.

She shouldered her pack and headed into the forest. Her mind was racing, for the first time ever she was truly, truly outside Meathe and it was dizzying. It was also almost midnight and she hadn't properly rested for two days. The decision to rest was hardly a decision at all. She started to keep an eye out for a suitable place to set up camp and, to her relief, found a spot behind a large boulder that was perfect for a camp-fire. She was a little amazed at herself for having kept going and not just crashed as soon as she got to shore. She was also tired. Very much so.

She set about setting up the small tent and laying out her bedroll. For all intents and purposes she was alone in the wilderness now. Wild animals were definitely a concern. She'd have to sleep lightly and make sure the fire didn't go out. Luckily for her sleeping lightly was a skill she had been developing since she was eleven. Still, she was exhausted. Even as she sat there, with her back against the cold stone and Charoth in her arms, she started to nod.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to her as she drifted away to the shores of sleep, two figures hid in the shrubbery nearby. A man dressed head to toe in red with a glaive strapped to his back and another with horns and a tail, dressed mostly in colours so dark they looked black in the night. The horned one gave his companion a strange look.

“Gregor... What are we doing here?” he asked. The man in red shushed him.

“That kid's a changeling,” he whispered, looking to where Charoth rested in Ashe's arms. Markus stiffened. Changelings were bad news pretty much all around and knowing Gregor...

“Lets not jump to any conclusions, she could be a Faerie herself,” Markus suggested, looking at the woman holding the child. She certainly didn't look entirely human, but her magic was odd, fey to be sure but there was something extra there that he couldn't quite put his finger on so he wasn't entirely sure what to think.

“Then why wouldn't she be in the Faerie Realm?” Gregor asked.

“How would I know that?” Markus asked.

“You're the one who suggested it,” Gregor pointed out and the two fell silent, going back to watching the white haired woman and child.

“They look like they could be related...” Markus mused. “She may be going to some human village... trying to exchange him for a human child?” it was logical enough. If the woman was a Faerie and the child's mother that was exactly what she'd be doing out of her realm with the kid being so young. Still, those were an awful lot of assumptions to make and from the way she held him Markus didn't think it likely she'd ever willingly let him go, let alone exchange him for another. That, and Alaran was generally not a popular country among Faeries. He looked back to Gregor just a bit too late. His friend had already begun to move.

Now, far be it from anyone to say that _Markus Velafi_ was overly cautious, but this woman held the infant Gregor was about to try to remove from her like he was the most precious thing in the universe. That and she held some power Markus hadn't been able to figure out yet. So he did the only logical thing, he scrambled after Gregor in an attempt to stop a chain of events that would most likely get both of them killed.

“Miss, I would like to inform you that you are holding a changeling child,” Gregor had approached the woman before Markus could get to him.

Ashe whirled around, startled, heart hammering from being jolted out of half-sleep and cursed herself for letting her guard slip. One hand went to the short sword she carried as she backed slowly to the tent and placed Charoth in the small nest of blankets she had prepared for him. Even as she did this she scanned the men before her. One was human, little to no doubt about that, the other very much not so. Tiefling if she remembered her biology correctly. She moved to shield Charoth from them while her mind raced. Monsters she had considered, they had been a given, but she'd never thought monster _hunters_ would come after her. Though, in hindsight, she probably should have. Her reaction time would likely be sluggish, too, due to her physical and emotional exhaustion.

“I am aware of that, thank you,” she said, hand still on the hilt of her sword. This was bad.

“So you _are_ a Faerie then!” the man in red exclaimed, sounding oddly proud of himself and somewhat exited. Ashe blinked, slightly taken aback.

“What? N-” Ashe's reply was cut short as she had to draw her sword to block the oncoming glaive. She spun out of the way, hoping her attacker would follow her away from Charoth's position.

“Gregor-” the horned man was saying something but the man in red, Gregor presumably, was still coming at her so she didn't pay much attention. She ducked under another swing and came up, green energy crackling around her free hand. She had to end this quickly. This was a misunderstanding, true, but one she could not afford. If she lost this fight who knew what would happen to Charoth? She could not know the minds and hearts of the two before her. For all she knew they were going to kill him. Her eyes flashed and she fell into a more predatory stance. More green energy sparked from her fingers and she lunged for her enemy, a vicious snarl crawling out of her throat.

Markus took a few involuntary steps back at the raw power of the woman's rage. It was plain to him now that in her mind they were a threat not only to her life, but the child's as well. At this point it didn't really matter if he was actually her son or not, they had basically just stepped between a mother bear and her cub. As she flew towards Gregor, short sword swinging in a masterful arc that Gregor only barely parried Markus started to think. He needed a distraction of some kind. Preferably something that would end with no fatal injuries. An idea struck him and he snapped his fingers to summon an imp. The imp appeared in the puff of smoke and gibbered at him as he threw it at the woman's face.

Something red a squishy landed on Ashe's head, making her pause for a mere moment, but is was one moment too long. Gregor moved to strike and she closed her eyes, raising her sword and somehow managing to block his glaive. The sound of steel clashing on steel rang through the eerily silent woods and everything seemed to freeze. Gregor had her pinned, her position was awkward and shaky, half fallen and supporting herself with one arm, her legs at an awkward, strenuous angle. The imp jumped off her head and was sent back where it came from by the horned man.

“This has been a truly, truly unfortunate misunderstanding,” the horned man said, taking a step forwards, obviously trying to be charming or... something. Ashe frowned at him and Gregor straightened, pulling back his glaive and giving his companion a confused look. Ashe jumped to her feet, sword still in hand and circled around to where she could block Charoth from both of them if they tried anything.

“What do you mean?” she asked suspiciously eyeing the pair. The horned one bowed with a flourish of his cape. She resisted the urge to cross her arms and give him an unimpressed glare.

“I am Markus Velafi, and it seems obvious to me that my friend here mistook your situation rather spectacularly, my apologies,” Ashe blinked and turned fully to Markus to stare incredulously at him.

“He tried to _kill_ me,” she said.

“I'm still here, you know,” Gregor piped up. She ignored him in favour of glaring at Markus.

“Once again, my apologies, assumptions were made,” he said and turned to his friend, who glanced at Charoth. Ashe immediately shifted to block her brother and sent Gregor a warning look.

“Hey, Markus was the one suggesting you were a Faerie. And that you were going to do the changeling swap thing,” he said. Ashe sighed.

“Fine, good, OK,” she bit out as she turned back to her camp and sat down on the opposite side of the fire to the two of them, once again very purposely placing herself between them and Charoth. She glared at the two. “Miscommunication cleared up, you can leave me alone now,” Charoth turned to look at them curiously, gripping onto the back of Ashe's tunic. Markus glanced at the kid again.

“So what's the deal here anyway?” he asked. Ashe didn't answer in favour of biting into a piece of bread. Markus and Gregor looked at each other again.

“I'm sorry I thought you were a Faerie... and tried to kill you,” Gregor added and, for what it was worth, he did sound apologetic. Didn't mean Ashe had to pay any attention to him.

“Well from what I can see, you're human...?” Markus faltered, he obviously wasn't sure about that. Ashe ground her teeth and refrained from snapping at him. “Well that doesn't really matter at this point. What does matter, however, is why are you out in the middle of nowhere with a changeling who can't be more than, what? Six months old?” Ashe stopped suddenly, hand slowly lowering she stared at her lap.

“Thirty,” she said in an unusually quiet voice. Markus frowned.

“I'm sorry, what?” he asked. She looked slowly up at Markus and Gregor.

“He's thirty years old,” she said, more clearly. Markus blinked, opened his mouth to say something, and closed it again. Gregor looked incredibly confused.

“But... he's a baby...” he said slowly. Ashe turned and gently picked Charoth up, looking down into his half-asleep face.

“He was placed under a curse,” she said. Charoth, sensing Ashe's stance on the strangers to have shifted, tiredly peered at them, this time leaning a bit towards Markus. Suddenly Gregor looked incredibly excited, he was practically bouncing.

“Oh I get it! You're on a quest!” he said. Ashe nodded reluctantly.

“So what is your relation anyway?” Markus asked. Ashe scowled. She was not pleased with how much she was sharing here but something about Gregor's excitement at the thought of a quest made her think perhaps these two weren't all bad.

“He's my brother, older than me, my mother thought she couldn't have children and went to the Faerie Queen,” it was short and left out several key details, but it communicated the necessary information well enough.

“And, let me guess, you don't want to take care of a baby your entire life,” Markus said.

“No. No I don't,” Ashe agreed. Gregor grinned.

“So can we come with you?” he asked. Ashe pulled back a bit and gave him an incredulous look.

“No, absolutely not! Look, I may have told you more that is strictly speaking wise about me but lets not forget you _tried to kill me_!” Charoth squirmed, sensing his sister's frustration. Markus grinned and Ashe couldn't help but think there was something behind that grin.

“Ah, but if you want the best chance of getting this curse removed you're going to need a lawyer,” he said smoothly and his entire being seemed to ooze confidence or perhaps a pinch of smugness. Ashe pulled a face. Technically speaking he was right. Her mother had made a deal, signed a contract, she'd either have to appeal to the Queen's heart, which she seemed to lack, or manage some serious legal manoeuvring. In a legal system she barely knew anything about.

“So I take it you're familiar with spirit laws, then?” she asked, still sounding sceptical and unimpressed.

“Oh he's a great lawyer!” Gregor said. “He got me out of jail, once,” Ashe raised an eyebrow.

“What did you do?” she asked.

“I killed a man,” he replied, perfectly straight-faced.

“ _Allegedly_ ,” Markus pointed out. “He was framed,” now the tiefling really did sound supremely proud of himself. Ashe bit her lip.

“Fine, apparently I'd be better off with you on my side,” she admitted, very reluctantly. Markus grinned and Gregor nodded sagely. “I'm Aesling,” she introduced herself finally.

“Nice to meet you Ashe, I'm Markus Velafi.”

“And I'm Gregor Hartway,” Ashe nodded and went back to her supper as her two new travel companions sat down by the fire. They fell into an oddly comfortable silence, staring into the flames. Gregor pulled a bag of trail mix out of his leg-pouch and started to munch on the contents.

“So how far is it to the nearest town?” Ashe asked after a few minutes of this silence had passed. From what she had observed neither Markus nor Gregor actually had a lot of gear with them, hardly any beyond a couple bedrolls and trail mix, so she assumed they knew of a place close by where they could restock. Unless they kept their things wherever it was Markus' imps lived.

“I think our best bet is to head towards a port with a ship to Onorhant, there's bound to be one somewhere around here,” Markus said. Ashe, having a natural head for maps, recalled her studies into the world outside of Meathe. If she remembered correctly Altreia was far closer to Alaran than Onorhant. Even Grius would have been closer, though she couldn't see why they would try to go there.

“Why Onorhant? Isn't Altreia closer?” Markus pulled a face.

“Technically yes but if we're focusing on learning more about spirits and finding a reliable way into the Faerie Realm then Onorhant's our best bet... unless... do you have a map?” Ashe's absolutely withering look seemed to answer his question. Well it was that or her reaching into her pack and pulling out about five.

“Do you collect maps?” Gregor asked, suddenly curious.

“No, actually, I, well I make them,” she handed Markus a map that covered the entirety of the Free Isles. Some places may not have been marked out, true, but it did its job. Markus studied the map closely. She thought she heard him say something about it being well made, but she couldn't be sure.

“Of course!” he grinned. Ashe picked Charoth up and went to stand behind Markus, looking down at the place Markus was pointing on the map.

“Grius?” she asked. Those islands had been a dead nation for twenty years, if what little information she had on them was true. She voiced this concern and Gregor got up and walked over, also looking over Markus' shoulder.

“Ashe, spirits are known to gravitate to areas abandoned by humans,” Gregor said matter-of-factly. Ashe blinked.

“Huh,” she said. She was about to say something when Charoth decided Markus' hair looked interesting. He reached towards it and before Ashe could notice or stop him had gripped a fistful of the golden locks and tugged. Markus yelped and Ashe surprised herself with an actual laugh as Charoth started to chew on the end of the handful of captured hair. She did, however, remove the hair from his grasp.

“How much of the world around him do you think he understands?” Gregor asked, shifting the subject at hand completely as Markus mourned over his somewhat ruined hair.

“I don't know, it's never really been one hundred percent clear to me,” Ashe said, looking down at Charoth who smiled up at her. “He reads situations rather well, though he's never tried to form words... isn't that something they're supposed to do around six months?” she looked at Gregor, who shrugged.

“I'm a monster expert, not a baby expert,” he said. Markus coughed, catching their attention. His hair was back to normal and he was staring, rather sourly, at Charoth. This passed quickly, however, and he dusted off his cloak and returned his focus to the conversation.

“I suppose it won't do any good to ask if he's always been a quiet child,” it was more a statement than a question.

“Of course it won't,” Ashe said. Charoth yawned in her arms and she moved over to her pack.

Once he was snug in his bedroll and protected from possible downpours by the tent the three companions went back to sitting around the fire. That same surprisingly comfortable silence fell among them again, each caught in their own thoughts. Ashe shifted ever so slightly to pull the flask of some alcoholic beverage, she forgot which at that moment, out of a side pocket on her pack.

“ _Ashe_ ,” Markus sounded scandalized. “There are _children_ present!” she scoffed and took a swing of the drink. As per usual nothing happened.

“A, he's sleeping, B, I don't get drunk, it's really hard for me to get even a bit tipsy,” she said. Markus suddenly looked really interested. He leaned forwards a bit and studied her face.

“Does that have anything to do with the hair... or the eyes? Which by the way are glowing, did you know they glow?” he asked. She gave him a flat look.

“Yes I know they glow,” she said. “And probably yes, I've never been too clear on the details,” she hummed thoughtfully and took another swing of her drink.

“It looks to me like you're also a little bit cursed,” Gregor said. Ashe stared at him, put the flask down, and stared some more.

“No,” was all she would say on the subject before she slipped into the tent and closed the flaps. “Markus you're taking first watch,” she called before slipping into her bedroll. Sleep, despite her earlier exhaustion, was far from her mind. Markus was a sorcerer... warlock... sorcelock? That was the term he had used anyway. She suddenly found herself wondering how many details he could discern about her that she didn't even know were there. The thought scared her and her hands shook as she hugged herself tightly, fingers brushing across the markings on her arms. Despite her best efforts to calm down she didn't get much sleep that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, please tell me if I missed anything in my editing. I've read this chapter what feels like five million times but I'm still not sure.
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> **Note about the terminology around Spirits/Faeries in Siblings**
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> If you read this chapter you will notice when writing from the perspective of Ashe's mother, I call the supernatural creatures “Faeries” or “fey creatures” and almost everything tied to them, from the hillock that is the entry point to the Queen herself, have that title. But then you will notice that the Queen says something completely different. When she calls for her subjects attention, she says “spirits”. Also when writing from Ashe's perspective I mention both terms, though the land where said supernatural creatures reside is always called the “Faerie Realm”.  
> The Faeries in this story and their world is loosely based off the legend of “Otherworld” (among other, more Scandinavian (and thus more known to me) legends) where all manner of supernatural creatures, from plain faeries to undead creatures like the banshees lived but were all usually lumped together under the title of “Faeries” by humans. They were also ruled over by a monarch, hence why there is a “Queen of the Faeries”.  
> The same goes for this world, spirits, whatever their true nature may be, are usually called Faeries by humans while the actual spirits themselves differentiate by species or just use spirits as a sort of umbrella term. An example would be Dont and Kyl'il (who will both show up... eventually). Both spirits, neither consider the other to be of the same sort. Both are still called Faeries by humans despite neither actually being anywhere close.  
> Ashe thinks about “spirits” rather than “Faeries” most of the time because of her mother's deal with the Faerie Queen (who is called as such even by her subjects because she is actually a faerie, and so will the ruling family of the Faerie Realm continue to be for all the foreseeable future, hence why her magic is fey magic and places spirits reside (that are thus under her rule) are fey country). Because of Ashe's connection with spirits she automatically calls them by right name. Also I would like to note that Markus is not in fact thrown in under the title Faerie by most humans he meets, only a rare few don't recognize he's of hellish decent rather than from the Faerie Realm.


	2. Chapter II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group settles into their new dynamic, everyone sings (apparently), rude people are rude and nosy and Gregor is a precious sunshine child but also a reservoir of angst so of course I had to do something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while to write but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out.

Ashe was the first of her companions to wake the next morning. She opened the flap of her tent and looked out over the small camp site. Markus looked peaceful where he rested with his back against the same stone Ashe had sat by yesterday. Gregor was curled up inside his bedroll with his glaive by his side. She stretched and looked around. The light of early dawn bathed the woods in a soft glow, only strengthened by the mist that still crept across the ground. If she didn't know better she would have said she was in fey country. Except this was the Alaran Empire.

She turned back to her tent and peaked inside. Charoth was still asleep but wouldn't remain so for long any more, if he followed his usual pattern. As quietly and gently as possible she picked him up and strapped him to her back before moving out of the camp. The forest around her was different from Meathe's forests, vastly so, but trees were trees and so she could still read them well. She stopped by one and placed her hand on it's trunk, sturdy, long-lived but far from being ancient. She smiled to herself and caught one of the lower branches. With the practised movements of someone doing something they had done their entire life she swung up.

It took barely ten seconds for her to reach a point at which she could survey the entire camp. She moved Charoth to her arms and leaned back against the trunk of the tree. Slowly she let herself relax and carefully she started to assess her situation, physical and otherwise. Another glance down at the camp revealed that neither of her surprise travel companions had woken yet. She really had been expecting to have to do this entirely on her own and she didn't exactly trust either of them but Markus _had_ made an excellent point with the lawyer thing. As for her physical well-being she seemed to be mostly fine, a mild pain in her left hand was all she could detect.

Quietly she began to hum a soft tune to herself. It was a simple melody, one she had heard parents sing to their children back on Meathe. One she liked to imagine her mother would have sung for her. She did not quite know the words, having heard them only once or twice, but she liked the melody and so did Charoth. He shifted in his sleep, making a small and content little sound. She smiled softly and pressed a small kiss on the top of his head. As if summoned by the peace of the moment, words began to attach themselves to the melody.

“ _Here we are,_  
_on an unknown shore._  
_Where we go_  
_from now on is unsure._  
_Still I swear,_  
_I will never let you go._  
_Now I swear,  
__I will help you grow._ ”

She faltered and the short verse stopped. Charoth was looking up at her with wide, curious eyes and it occurred to her that she had never sung around him before. Hummed, yes, spoken most certainly, but sing? That was something she'd always kept to herself.

“Yes, your sister knows how to sing,” she said in a half joking tone. “How about that?” Charoth giggled and reached for her hair. One of the reasons she was happy to that it was short was what she had seen babies do with dangling accessories and long hair. Markus last night had been a prime example. She moved her ever curious older brother a little farther from the poof of white on her head. Faced with this Charoth settled on the second best, clinging to her tunic.

“Ashe?” she looked down at the sound of someone calling her name and found Gregor staring up at her. “What're you doing up there?”

“Relaxing,” she replied.

“But you can do that on the ground!” Gregor yelled up at her. “Also Markus wants to talk to you!” She sighed and shifted, strapping Charoth to her back again and climbing down as quickly as she had climbed up. Once on the ground she gently removed Charoth's hands from her hair and walked towards Markus, Gregor trailing behind her.

“Ah, Ashe there you are!" Markus turned from his task of making breakfast as she approached.

“I wasn't even gone,” Ashe replied, crossing her arms.

“Well we woke up and you weren't here. What were we supposed to think?” Gregor asked.

“That I had gone for a walk with full intention of returning because I left all of my stuff here,” Ashe gestured to her, now packed up, tent. “Speaking of, which one of your did that?”

“Oh, er, that was me,” Gregor replied, looking a might sheepish. “Markus thought I shouldn't have touched your stuff but-”

“No, no, I... thank you I guess,” Ashe said, looking to the side, somewhat embarrassed. “It'd be a lot of work packing that thing up every morning, I appreciate the hand,” she settled on, with a small smile to reassure him that it really was all right. Gregor beamed.

“Ashe,” Markus made his presence known again. “I need to talk to you,” Ashe turned to him and sat down, placing Charoth on her bedroll and absently handing him his favourite plaything. Which happened to be a staff of sorts.

“Yeah?” she responded.

“About our quest,” Markus began. “I've been thinking... it's pretty obvious this isn't a classic switch case, in which case you would be well within your rights to go on any quest you like to reclaim the original child...” he hummed thoughtfully, staring at the sandwiches he'd made. Gregor had already grabbed one, from the looks of it the only one without meat.

“Everyone knows the laws around classic changelings, Markus,” Ashe said in an unimpressed tone. “It's one of the first things kids learn... right?” she looked uncertainly at Gregor, suddenly realizing she had no area of expertise when it came to teaching outside of Meathe. Gregor nodded and swallowed the bit of sandwich he'd been chewing.

“Oh yeah, that's a must know, even people who call Markus a Faerie know that,” he replied. Ashe nodded and turned back to Markus, who continued talking.

“As I was saying. This _isn't_ a classic case. As far as I know this has never happened before, which is why it's a good thing I'm here,” he grinned. Ashe rolled her eyes. “No seriously the Faerie Realm could rival Hell for complicated, if expertly forged, legal system,” he looked dead serious.

“So what do we do now?” Ashe asked.

“Well before we can do anything we need to get a proper look at the contract your mother signed, which means we need access of the Faerie Realm archives,” Markus replied matter-of-factly.

“But before that we need to find a way into the Faerie Realm, don't we?” Gregor asked, seating himself across from Ashe. Markus nodded.

“Which is why we're going to Grius,” Ashe filled in. Markus nodded again and stood, grabbing one of the two remaining sandwiches and handing Ashe the other.

“So lets get going,” he said. Ashe was about to roll up her bedroll and shoulder her pack when Markus snapped his fingers, summoning two imps.

“What-” Ashe started to ask, but Markus interrupted her.

“It's easier to travel lightly, they'll take care of your stuff,” he said as the imps lifted the pack and bedroll and Markus sent them back where they came from.

“Are you sure my things are going to be OK?” Ashe asked, staring at the spot where the imps had vanished.

“Oh, one hundred percent yes,” Markus grinned. Ashe gave him a mildly suspicious look but let it go in favour of picking up Charoth and strapping him to her back again. She took a small bite out of the sandwich Markus had put together, decided it probably wasn't poisoned, shrugged and started walking. The others followed behind her, placing an inordinate amount of trust in her, to them, untested sense of direction. Still, she pretty much never got lost so their trust was far from misplaced.

***

It was near noon when they stopped properly again, having come to a point where the outskirts of a town were visible through the trees and the forest was ending. Ashe stopped walking abruptly and sent Markus a look. Her eyes went from his horns to his tail before coming to interlock with his.

“Should we go around or hide the horns?” she asked. Markus made an offended noise and placed a hand to his chest, taking a step back in an overly shocked motion.

“Ashe, you disappoint me!” he said in a fake-hurt tone.

“Yeah Ashe, why should he have to hide?” Gregor asked, giving Ashe a mildly suspicious look. Ashe rolled her eyes.

“Because this is a small town in Alaran. There's a reason spirits don't like this empire and I'm willing to bet they're no kinder to tieflings,” she said. Markus chuckled.

“You'd be surprised how easily people believe they're fake,” he said, tapping one of his horns lightly. “Humans have an unfortunate tendency to constantly deny what they don't want to acknowledge, even if it's standing right in front of them,” Ashe shifted slightly, tilting her head to the side. She had not been expecting that kind of insight from Markus. Even though, to be fair, she had not known him long enough to make an accurate assessment of his character. She turned back towards the village to hide the small smile growing on her face.

“Well I suppose,” she admitted. “But I still think it would be better to stay off the road until we get to a port town. Three out of the four of us look like we could potentially not be... well, a hundred percent human and that's bound to raise some eyebrows. It would be best to limit our contact with Alarani citizens as much as possible,” she peered through the trees to her left. There seemed to be an old path there. It was over grown to the point where it was nearly impossible to make out and had likely gone unused for a long time.

“You make a fair point,” Markus said. Ashe nodded and straightened.

“Well what're we waiting for?” Gregor grinned, heading down the way he had seen Ashe looking. Ashe and Markus glanced at each other and shrugged in unison before following after Gregor. Charoth, who had been moved to her front where she could easier shield him from anything that may threaten them after she had finished her breakfast, shoved his hand against her shoulder to get her attention. He stared up at her and she chuckled. He was obviously not upset so by default Charoth patterns he probably just wanted some attention. Which he now had.

“What is it?” she asked gently. He frowned briefly, as if trying to figure out how to communicate his wish. He pointed to Ashe's mouth and she raised an eyebrow. Markus and Gregor were quietly observing them as the three who could walk continued to do so.

Charoth made a disgruntled noise and pointed again. Ashe blinked. He had never done this before. They had set up a rudimentary but functioning communication system over the years but this way entirely new. She frowned thoughtfully, looking down at Charoth, who was looking at her with as much of an unimpressed face as a baby could muster. Then it clicked and she glanced at Markus and Gregor.

“Later, be patient,” she told Charoth. He wanted her to sing for him. She sighed and shook her head fondly. She should have expected this from the way he had reacted that morning. Apparently he liked singing.

“What does he want?” Gregor asked, glancing back at Charoth. Ashe glanced to the side and coughed.

“A song, I think,” she said and left it at that. Or tried to. Gregor's eyes lit up at the mention of singing. Markus, too, looked over in interest.

“I could sing Gregorsong,” the brunet offered eagerly. Ashe stared at him.

“Gregorsong?” she asked as she swiftly climbed over a fallen tree across the pathway. Gregor nodded.

“It's a song I wrote about me,” he grinned. Ashe looked over at Markus, who was also smiling.

“And I wrote the Ballad of Markus Velafi,” he said. Ashe stopped walking to just stare at the two of them.

“You wrote songs about yourselves?” she asked. Markus nodded and continued to walk, Ashe shook herself and followed along.

“Is there something wrong with that?” Gregor asked. Ashe shook her head.

“No it's actually really cool!” she said enthusiastically. She hesitated for a second and coughed awkwardly, realizing she'd let her guard slip. “I just thought that was a bard or a minstrel's job.”

“Well you're technically right, but how could I trust anyone but myself to properly capture the magnificence that is Markus Velafi?” Markus asked. Ashe stopped herself from rolling her eyes fondly. She was beginning to enjoy travelling with these two, though she strongly suspected they would be quite the handful at times.

***

They reached a port town well before sundown. It probably should have come as no surprise, they had been keeping relatively close to the coastal area as much as possible, but after Meathe and it's endless forests walking for less than a day to reach where you wanted to go was strange. They entered the town quietly through a main gate, blending into the crowd as well as they could. Markus scouted ahead and found them a quiet but well-kept inn to stay in until they could find a ship willing to take them to Grius.

The common room of the inn was very small, an old man stood behind the counter, ready to take any order someone may wish to place but there was almost no one other than the four travellers there. In a corner there sat a man with very light blond hair and blue-grey eyes but other than him the place seemed desolate.

“Hello young travellers,” the man behind the counter said. Markus nodded at him.

“Hello Old Inny,” he greeted. “These are my travelling companions, Aesling and Gregor,” the old man nodded. There was something off about him but Ashe couldn't quite put her finger on it.

“So Markus,” she interjected. “Did you get us a room... or rooms?” Markus turned away from chatting amicably with the weird bartender.

“Yes in fact I did, second floor third door to the left,” he threw her the key. She caught it and swiftly made her way up to the room. Inside there were two beds, both clearly meant to house only one person. Someone would have to take the floor. She could make a bed for Charoth on the small couch. She walked over to one of the beds, setting Charoth down on the couch as she passed it, and proceeded to check for bed bugs. She found none and, satisfied that she would be able to sleep in this room, returned to Charoth.

As soon as she was seated he made a gesture best summarized by “graby hands”. She pulled his favourite staff thing from the small pack of Charoth essentials she had insisted on carrying herself. He took it happily and began turning it over and occasionally hitting one of the cushions with it. Apparently not even thirty years of the same thing could make him tire of it. Then again he had had it since before his adoption so perhaps there was something of a subconscious connection to his roots in the object. Or perhaps it was magic. It kept him occupied when she wanted time alone so she didn't particularly care this way or that.

With that thought she pulled out her map of the Free Isles as well as the one more detailed map she had of Alaran. Though “more detailed” hardly meant good. Roads and cities were there, yes, but only barely and none of them bore names. Hell, she hadn't even been able to tell what part of the coast exactly she was on before coming to this town. Now she could possibly make an educated guess. Maybe. Provided she had sailed in a somewhat straight line from Meathe. She groaned.

“Come on, Ashe,” she muttered to herself, looking closer at the map, trying to remember if she had seen any obvious landmarks on the way here. There had been that small village but it didn't seem to be on this map. Not surprising, really, it had been incredibly tiny. She had made her own maps as long as she could remember, when it came to Meathe she had actually gone out to measure distances and get the shape of the shorelines, the few roads, the placement of the hills. When it came to everything else she had copied what she could find. She would have liked to stay a little longer in Alaran, provided she could avoid human contact at all costs, just to get her _own_ take on the place, but as it was that was at the least impractical and risky and at the most impossible and jeopardizing her entire... well, Gregor had called it a quest. She glanced to Charoth, who was quietly pushing at a cushion with his staff. Quest sounded somewhat pretentious when she said it herself but she supposed she hit all the qualifiers.

Not that there were many. Come to think of it quest was really just a fancy word for a long journey to do, find or reclaim something that you perceived to be important. People just viewed it as grander than that for some reason. Probably because most of the quests they heard about involved deadly danger and quite often a dragon.

She was startled out of her thoughts by Markus and Gregor entering the room. Gregor immediately set about arranging his bedroll on the best bit of floor he could find, instantly solving what Ashe had thought would be at least a bit of a discussion. She stared at him for a few seconds before she shook herself out of her brief moment of wonder. Was this just a thing for the two of them? If there weren't enough beds Gregor took the floor? Did they alternate?

“You're thinking pretty hard over there,” Gregor commented, rising, task completed. She blinked and relaxed back into a reclining position of the sofa.

“I, uh, I do a lot of that,” she said, not really sure where he was going with this. He smiled.

“That's good, keeps the mind fresh,” he said. She supposed that was technically true. Still a somewhat strange comment. But then Gregor was a somewhat strange person. She stood, casting a glance out the window at the street below.

“I'm going to the docks,” she said and stood, picking up Charoth in the process. As the moved to exit the room another thought dawned on her and she turned to Markus and Gregor. “Stay out of trouble,” she said and closed the door behind her.

The streets of the town were crowded, she didn't think she'd seen this many people in one place, well, ever. It was a little unnerving but she resolved to keep her head held high. She got some looks, most likely because of her and Charoth's hair she reasoned. She reached the docks in no time and her eyes swept over the huge ships. Likely they would have been very promising targets for her ancestors, before they had settled Meathe. She hummed thoughtfully. Many of these were likely purely trading vessels and those were her best bet. Passenger ships probably wouldn't change their course for all the gold in Alaran. Not because they didn't want the gold, because they didn't want the inevitable lawsuits that would cause.

“Excuse me, miss?” she ignored the speaker at first but when the call was repeated again, more insistently she turned, confused that a stranger would just approach her like that. The woman in front of her radiated a kind of nosey concern that she was _all_ too familiar with. Everyone on Meathe had been incredibly respectful, too respectful, borderline fearful of her but they had also been way too curious. They had masked their prying inquisitiveness behind flowery words, gifts and concern for her well being but it had still been there and over time she had become all too adept at picking it out.

“What do you want?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. The woman smiled. False. Mask. Ashe twitched almost imperceptibly. Charoth noticed, of course, being that she was carrying him and looked up at her with confusion.

“I couldn't help but notice you're staying at the old inn?” the woman said, though it was meant to sound like a question. Ashe didn't answer her and turned back to the ships. The woman coughed and Ashe sighed.

“Why are you talking to me?” she asked, eyeing the woman suspiciously.

“Your travel companions are both men?” the woman ignored Ashe's question. Ashe closed her eyes and took a deep breath, willing herself to be patient. It wouldn't do to cause a stir right after she'd told Markus and Gregor to stay out of trouble. She'd never hear the end of it. She knew where this was going. It had happened on Meathe every single time she even breathed in a young man's direction. Not that she had ever been interested in anyone on Meathe, not really. A childhood crush perhaps, but that was before everyone was policing her every move.

“Yeah, so?” she asked, perhaps a little snappishly but this woman was going far beyond the line of proper or polite here.

“So who's the father?” the woman asked. Ashe stopped in her tracks, mind screeching to a halt. All that came to mind were four words. Oh, my, fucking and Gods. She had known people would assume she was Charoth's mother. She had even considered people might think she and one of her new travelling companions were together. She had, on the other hand, never made the connection that people may think Markus or Gregor to be Charoth's _father_. The idea was entirely ludicrous to her. Now she realized from literally anyone else's perspective it really wasn't that big of a logical leap.

She glared at the woman but neglected to answer as she continued her brisk walk. She was under absolutely no obligation to talk to someone so unbelievably rude and nosey. She quickly noticed she was being followed and sent a short prayer to whatever powers may be listening for patience. She continued to ignore the woman, who seemed to understand after a remarkably short while that she would get no answer and turned away. Ashe breathed a sigh of relief and resumed her task of finding a ship.

Her best option seemed to be a small-ish merchant's vessel, from the state of the sails to the quality of the goods she was selling it was obvious she was down on her luck. Which mean she'd be more likely to take Ashe's offer in exchange for the extra coin. And apparently Ashe wasn't the only one to realize this.

“Grius?” the merchant asked, squinting suspiciously at the blond man in front of her. Ashe vaguely remembered seeing him in the common room of the inn not long ago.

“It's barely even a detour on the way to Onorhant and I'll pay handsomely,” he said. Ashe carefully approached, unsure of how to worm her way into the conversation. The merchant looked sceptical.

“Hey, er...” Ashe made her presence know. “You're headed to Grius?” she looked at the man. He ran a hand through his hair, looking at her as if he was trying to place her.

“Oh! Right, I saw you at the inn,” he said. “Yes, why?” she noted that he was still playing with his hair. Apparently it was a habit.

“So am I,” she said. Charoth turned to look at the stranger. The merchant perked up.

“Just you, or...?” she prompted. Ashe turned to her.

“Three others, my travelling companions and this little guy,” she gestured to Charoth with her free hand. The merchant glanced sharply at the man again before looking back to Ashe.

“And you're prepared to pay for all four?” she asked. Ashe nodded. The merchant crossed her arms and grinned.

“Well I'll be damned, might just be worth the trip after all! My name's Lilja, welcome aboard we leave tomorrow at dawn,” she held out her hand and Ashe shook it.

***

The walk back to the inn was uneventful. She and the stranger kind of walked together but not really. They were headed in the same direction to the same destination at the same speed but neither of them said a word to each other. This continued all the way to the inn and up the stairs until they finally split, Ashe going left and the stranger going right. She knocked on the third door and Gregor opened it a few seconds later.

“How goes the hunt?” Markus asked once she was inside and Gregor had closed the door. She set Charoth down on the couch in a nest of blankets that had not been there before. A quick glance at Gregor's proud grin confirmed her suspicion that he had made it. She smiled at him before flopping down onto the bed that Markus was not reclining on.

“For a ship,” Gregor added helpfully. Ashe turned over and stared at the ceiling.

“We leave tomorrow at dawn,” she said. Markus nodded and slid further into his bed, plainly ready to get the rest he needed for an early rise. Gregor followed suit, snuggling into his bedroll, glaive, as ever, right beside him. Ashe got up quietly and walked over to the couch to tuck Charoth in for the night. She stroked his head softly as he slipped easily into the realm of sleep. The stillness of the quickly approaching night was broken only by the soft sounds of sleep. She made her way quietly back to her bed, sitting down on it and leaning her back against the headboard.

She wasn't entirely sure when she drifted off, how long it took or what she was thinking about when it happened. She was, however, entirely sure what woke her. Distressed screams mixed with broken sobs startled everyone, save the one making the noise out of their sleep. Markus was up and out of bed before Ashe could even properly process what was happening. In the first moment of confusion her eyes went to Charoth, but all he was doing was looking confused and worried. Markus on the other hand moved to Gregor's side instantly. Ashe sat up properly but as she was not sure what to do she remained in place.

Markus gently knelt at Gregor's side, moving his glaive out of reach as the brunet writhed, eyes wide open but unseeing. Gregor lashed out, trying to protect himself from some unknown enemy and Markus easily dodged out of the way. Ashe stood and walked over to Charoth, picking him up and devoting half of her attention to keeping him calm while also observing Markus.

“We're here,” he said calmly over Gregor's persistent screaming. He looked back to where she was standing holding Charoth. “We're all safe and so are you,” Markus continued in this fashion. He sat by Gregor, talking quietly in a soothing tone as the minutes wore on. Gregor kept up his fight with unseen forces, occasionally mumbling out phrases that sounded like names between screams. It chilled Ashe to the bone to hear phrases that sounded like “don't kill them” and “not my fault” in the voice she had so quickly come to associate with a constantly sunny tone. Ashe couldn't tell how long it had been when Gregor suddenly quieted and went still. Markus leaned back, steadying himself on his hands before rising to his feet.

“I suppose you're wondering what that was about,” he said tiredly. Ashe shook her head. Though that was technically a lie, she definitely wondered what on earth could have happened to Gregor in his past and how he remained to happy about life despite it, however...

“It's not my place to ask. He obviously has these night terrors for a reason and whatever it is it's probably _incredibly_ personal,” she said quietly so as to not wake the person in question. Markus nodded and looked over at Gregor's sleeping figure.

“He'll be OK,” he said. Ashe nodded quietly, wondering if he'd somehow sensed her worry. Quickly she settled Charoth back into his make-shift bed.

“So that's what I should do if this happens and you're not around?” she asked quietly as the two of them made their way back to their beds. “Sit by him and just talk?” Markus nodded.

“Watch him, clear away thing he could hurt himself with if he starts to sleepwalk, stay with him as long as the terror lasts,” he said. Ashe hummed an affirming noise before dropping into her bed again.

“Sleep well, Ashe,” Markus said as he slipped into his own bed.

“'Night Markus,” she replied.

***

Ashe was up just before dawn. The faintest bit of light was all there was as she rose and exited the room to the balcony all the rooms shared. She leaned on the railing and breathed in the cold pre-dawn air. A soft tune started to weave itself inside her head and she began to hum. It was something that had always helped her sort her thoughts. Talking, singing or sometimes just humming to herself. Something about filling the silence with something that was entirely just _her_ was reassuring. Besides making some kind of sound just made it easier to string together thoughts that were other times somewhat of a jumbled mess.

She remained outside as the light grew stronger until finally she deemed it time to rouse the others. She turned and walked back into the room, finding Gregor already up and about. He'd packed up his bedroll and was moving towards Markus to wake him when her re-entering the room made him turn.

“Morning Ashe!” he said merrily before going to shake Markus awake. The tiefling mumbled something reluctant-sounding and turned over. Gregor huffed and dove in a quick attack onto Markus' still half-asleep form. Seconds later the fighting man was grinning triumphantly as he easily lifted the tiefling out of bed and placed him standing on the floor.

“Wow,” Markus shook his head, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. “OK, time to start the day I see,” he looked about the room and spotted Ashe, standing with crossed arms and an amused expression on her face.

“Morning you two,” she said before going over the Charoth and picking him up. “We should get going so we don't miss the boat,” Markus nodded and Gregor walked happily over to the door and flung it open. Ashe matched her pace to Markus' as they followed their lively friend down into the common room, past the counter and out into the street.

The docks were close and they reached the merchant's vessel quickly. The stranger Ashe had seen yesterday was already there and so was the merchant herself, along with the necessary crew she needed to run a relatively large ship. They boarded quickly and she hastily welcomed them, told them to find somewhere to make themselves comfortable and gave the order to set sail.

The four of them moved below deck and found a suitable spot to claim as theirs among the various crates. The stranger descended after them and took a space at the opposite end of the room. Ashe perched herself on top of the largest stack of crated that still allowed for sitting space at the top as Markus and Gregor used various things brought by Markus' imps to soften up their area until it looked vaguely like a pillow fort. Ashe resisted the urge to roll her eyes fondly at their antics.

“You're like a cat,” Gregor's sudden comment surprised her. She frowned in confusion and looked down at him from where she was sitting.

“What?” was all she could think to say. Gregor grinned like he'd made a huge discovery.

“Yeah! You like to climb high places, like a cat,” he said. Ashe bit back an amused smile.

“But I'm not lazy and I don't sleep away three quarters of my life,” she countered. Markus looked up, suddenly interested in the conversation.

“Ah but Ashe, Gregor never said you were a _house_ cat. You're more of a wildcat,” he said. Ashe narrowed her eyes at him. Gregor on the other hand nodded.

“You're watchful and like to approach people on your own terms. You're also territorial and not very sociable,” he said. Ashe bit her lip and looked to the side.

“Could you not psychoanalyse me?” she asked glaring down at the two of them. The group fell into a silence then that stretched on until Ashe slipped down from her perch atop the boxes to pick up Charoth where he was snuggling in among the various soft things Markus and Gregor had set up.

“Where are you going?” Gregor asked. Ashe looked at him for a split second before deciding to answer.

“Charoth's hungry, I'm going to feed him,” she replied. Suddenly Markus got up and announced he was going to follow her. She gave him an odd look but this didn't deter him as he did indeed follow her above deck.

He observed her quietly as she got Charoth to eat with patience and skill coupled with calm and strangely sensible baby. As a result there was minimal food thrown around and everyone left the situation content. As Ashe put the food container away and stood she looked over to Markus, who was still looking at her.

“Is something wrong?” she asked. He shook his head.

“No, no not at all,” he said with his signature smile. Ashe eyed him suspiciously.

“Then why are you staring at me?” Markus sighed.

“OK, listen,” he said sitting down. “I know you probably won't trust Gregor around him, and I know you probably don't trust either of us yet but I think it would be a lot easier on all of us if you weren't the only one who knew how to take care of Charoth,” Ashe looked down at Charoth hesitantly then back to Markus. Charoth himself was a big reason why she had accepted their help in the first place. Both because they'd be useful in completing her quest and because Charoth seemed at least somewhat comfortable around them. She glanced out over the ocean as if she'd find an answer somewhere in the horizon.

“Are you saying you want me to teach you?” she asked. Markus grinned.

“Yes that is precisely what I'm saying,” he said. “Fair warning, though, I know _nothing_ about infant care so... you know, just assume that you have to explain even the most obvious-seeming things and we should be fine,” she nodded and looked down at Charoth then back to Markus.

“How about we start with how to hold him?” she suggested.

***

Markus had been right when he'd said she'd need to explain absolutely everything. It took several hours to explain every detail and still Ashe knew she couldn't teach him everything. There were just some things, like the subtleties of Charoth's communication, how to read him as well as she could, that would only be there if Markus had her years of experience. Still Charoth seemed happy with this new development in his life. Especially as it meant Markus' hair was more often within reach. Apparently the differences between Ashe's poof and Markus' silky locks was an endless source of fascination to him.

Charoth was currently resting on Markus' knee as the clouds rolled by. The sky had become overcast in the past hours. Ashe and Markus had fallen into a companionable silence for a while and Ashe was glad for it. Markus was a good listener, despite what her first impression of him may have been. He also absorbed information pretty well. The moment of peace was shattered by one of the crew running over to them.

“Hey,” he panted, stopping to catch his breath. “You should get below deck,” Markus frowned and got up, lifting Charoth with him.

“Why?” he asked as Ashe scrambled to her feet.

“There's a storm coming,” the man said, pointing out over the water. There indeed dark, ominous clouds were rolling towards them. Ashe could already see the rain coming like a grey curtain above the water. Something about it set all her hairs on end and made her want to bolt. When she and Markus went below deck again she couldn't help but feel like something was incredibly wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the original plan for the chapter actually had the events of the oncoming storm happening in it but then I did the writer's version of endless side questing and that didn't happen. Like at all. I didn't even get the stranger (who, can we all agree is obviously Moren?) to introduce himself yet -.-;
> 
> I mean seriously my written up plan for chapter three is practically identical to the one I had for chapter two!


	3. Chapter III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The storm and the aftermath thereof. Charoth continues to be adorable and Ashe has a very weird dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very, very tired and far too obsessed with the TI songs.

The boat was swaying heavily as wave after wave shook its frame. The sounds of hurrying footsteps above deck were drowned out by thunder. Ashe sat to the side, cradling Charoth's shaking frame to her chest. He was scared, she could feel that as clearly as if his emotions were her own. She herself was worried, that much was true, and her unease had only grown as the storm grew stronger but she understood the situation better than him. He had lived through storms but none had shaken the ground he stood on.

“Markus!” she called and the tiefling turned away from staring out the porthole, something he had been doing for a while now. She immediately noticed the crease of his brow and wondered if he was sensing the same thing she was. “Is there anything... weird? About this storm?” she was hesitant to ask, firstly because she was positive she wouldn't have this misgiving without her powers and secondly because if she was right they were in more trouble than she thought she could handle. Markus gave her a curious look for a second before gaining a look of concentration. He looked back to her a few seconds later, his previous worry changing to alarm.

“I don't know how you knew that but yes,” he said, casting a look out the porthole. “There's something definitely magic-y out there,” the words had barely left his mouth before the door was slammed open. Lilja stood there, completely drenched and out of breath.

“Are any of you people mercenaries or warriors or just generally know how to fight at all?” she asked. Ashe, Gregor and Markus all turned to her at once. “Good! We need your help out here,” she turned and closed the door behind her before going back to whatever disaster awaited her. Ashe set Charoth down in front of her and sent a worried glance at the door. She turned back to her brother and gave him a quick hug in farewell.

“I'll be back as soon as I can,” she promised before turning to her companions. “Lets go,” she said, rising to her feet and walking to the door. Gregor was out even before her, glaive in hand, looking around for the source of trouble. A source that became abundantly clear as soon as they looked up. Huge, bird-like monsters circled the ship, out there their screeching could be heard even over the thunder and the howling wind around them. Ashe drew her short sword and glanced around the ship, so as to familiarize herself with the battle ground. Beside her Markus began to power up an Eldritch Blast.

In an instant everything about the scene changed. Markus' eyes widened in alarm as a sudden wave of _something_ hit him and he fell to his knees, suddenly too weak to stand. The creatures abruptly halted their circling and zeroed in on him where he was, trying and failing to catch his breath. They dove, all at once, screeching in triumph as one of them dug its talons deep into his shoulder and made to fly off with him.

Ashe leapt at the creature and with a swift and precise strike cut the talon off, sending the creature reeling and Markus toppling to the ground. She ran towards him, sending a glance in Gregor's direction, but the fighting man seemed to have the situation somewhat under control. Satisfied he'd buy her enough time she grabbed Markus and steadied him up against the closest wall. The talon she had severed was still stuck in his shoulder.

“Markus? Hey! Can you hear me?” she demanded. He groaned and she took that as a positive sign. “This is going to hurt,” she warned as she took a firm hold of the talon and as quickly as possible pulled it out of his shoulder. He barely even reacted and her heart sank. He'd fallen before any of the creatures had even gotten close to him and if there was something other at work there it would likely be something she couldn't heal. This also likely meant that if she was able to heal him he wouldn't remember it but that was no comfort to her.

She took a deep breath and placed her hand in one of the wounds. With a crackle of green energy she got the worst of the damage to begin to close up before everything suddenly seemed to slow down immensely. She felt a heavy, slow pressure on her back as the entire world seemed to fade. Exhaustion beyond anything she had ever felt overtook her in an instant. She couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't _think_. She remained like that, frozen in place for a few seconds before collapsing onto Markus, staring vacantly to the side, only half-registering the things going on around her.

Gregor caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and hurried over. Of the six monsters now four remained but those four had very quickly moved their attention from him to his friends. Both of which now seemed to be incapable of defending themselves for whatever reason. Which meant he would have to step up his game. He fell into a defending stance, his entire being radiating determination. The creatures cackled at him and dove, he assumed the Stance of the Leaping Lizard. With a quick leap he had plunged his glaive into one of their skulls and with another he had managed to scrape up another one's wing, sending it off-balance and hurtling into the water below. The final two drew away to continue their circling. He had made it plain as day he was not to be underestimated, but he'd also now used up all of their over confidence.

More hesitant and calculating now the bird creatures eyed him suspiciously. Behind him he heard the door to lower decks open but he didn't take his eyes off his enemies. The storm howled about them and not too far away Lilja was barking orders at her crew, trying to keep the ship afloat and on course, though the latter was near impossible at this point.

Gregor shifted ever so slightly and narrowed his eyes. Fighting strategy was something he had down incredibly well and he knew a stalemate when he saw one. If he moved even a little out of their way one of them would go after Ashe and Markus while the other would attack him. On the other hand if they moved at him now he could take them down quickly. From the look of their wicked talons and the fact that they were thunder falcons it was a miracle Markus had gotten away with the minimal damage he had. They looked like they could easily tear someone to shreds if they so wished. They did often enough, it was their usual modus operandi. They were not known to every carry away living prey.

A sudden realization made him stop. If they had wanted to kill Markus they'd have simply pierced his skull and been done with it. Instead they had attempted to fly away with him in his weakened state. Which meant neither of his friends was in mortal danger. They could recover from wounds and it was more than likely these creatures wanted to keep them alive for some reason. They wanted to hurt but not to kill. With this revelation Gregor sprang away from in front of his friends and flipped backwards onto higher ground. Now directly above where Ashe and Markus lay he sprang forward and landed on one of the creatures. As expected the other went directly for his friends but he couldn't focus on that at the moment.

The creature reeled and tried to shake him off. He took a firm grip of the feathers at the base of its neck to keep his balance and not fall several feet and likely break his neck. In one swift movement he took advantage of his perch by driving his glaive into the creature's skull with a determined strike, sending it crashing to the ground. He quickly turned his attention to the other one. In its talons Markus and Ashe were hanging, looking more like rag dolls than flesh and blood. Gregor rushed forwards, the creature almost out of reach. He jumped and caught on to one of Ashe's legs. She made a very faint groaning sound as the creature's talons dug further into her to accommodate for the extra weight.

Gregor steeled himself and as the creature passed close by the mast he caught hold of the rope ladder leading to the crow's nest. He let go of Ashe for a split second and as the creature screeched in triumph he instead moved to grab its wing. Suddenly caught the creature flapped violently and almost tore Gregor from his perch on the ladder. He fought against the wind and the creature and found himself stuck in that position. He glanced about for something to help him and spotted below him a flash of blond hair. The next thing he knew a bullet had pierced the creature's skull and it was hurtling towards the deck.

“Catch them!” he called down as he worked to untangle himself and descend the ladder. In death the creature's hold on his friends slackened and they were freed. In the next second the creature had crashed onto the deck and managed to cushion Markus and Ashe's fall with its feathery body. Before Gregor could make his way down the blond stranger they were sharing the cargo hold with had made his way over and picked up Markus. He stopped and blinked, for a moment surprised by how light the tiefling was. Gregor was down and next to him the next second, picking up Ashe and heading back towards the door to the lower decks. The stranger followed him and one of the crew opened the door for them. Once back in the cargo hold the stranger laid Markus down gently and Gregor followed suit.

“I'll go get the ship's doctor,” the stranger said and left, heading towards the doctor's cabin. Gregor looked down at his friends where they lay. He knew the basics of treating wounds from his years with the Outriders but as it stood at the moment all he could do was slow the bleeding and wait. A soft cry made him glance back at Charoth, who was trying to see what was going on from where he was. Even in her current state Ashe seemed to hear him. She twitched and groaned, rising ever so slightly. Gregor quickly placed a hand on her uninjured shoulder and pushed her down firmly before returning his attention to Charoth. The tiny spirit could clearly tell _something_ was wrong, though whether because of some form of sibling bond or spirit magic Gregor couldn't tell. He hesitated for a moment before leaving his friends' side to kneel beside the child.

“Uh... hi there,” he said a trifle awkwardly. Charoth looked up at him. “So, uh... your sister's hurt... But she's going to be OK! Probably...” he glanced back at Markus and Ashe and thus didn't see Charoth reach for his hand. Small fingers closed around his and made him jump. He was about to pull himself free when he turned to look at the child.

Charoth looked lost. He looked scared and lonely and Gregor had to sit down because of how much he was suddenly reminded of himself at a younger age. The stranger and the doctor came rushing in to tend to Ashe and Markus but Gregor paid them no mind. He was still wary of Charoth, a changeling was a changeling after all. They were known for toppling kingdoms, ruining families and many, many more evil things. Charoth, however, was a child and he was scared and it showed.

“Everything's going to be OK,” Gregor said. Charoth looked from him over to Ashe and Gregor got the feeling the tiny spirit didn't believe him. Charoth was still holding onto his hand and Gregor contemplated drawing away. As if in response to his thoughts Charoth's grip on him tightened. He frowned but a glance towards Ashe revealed that the tiny spirit likely wasn't a sinister telepath of some sort. She looked drained, her wounds were deep and she was paler than usual. More eerie still was how lifeless she and Markus looked. They were breathing, Gregor could see that even from a distance but something was so obviously wrong it made him shiver.

The doctor finished cleaning and dressing the wounds quickly and left just as quickly, presumably to tend to other wounded. The stranger stood and walked over to Gregor. He sat down on one of the near by crates and observed Gregor and Charoth for a while.

“You're not very good with kids, are you?” he asked. Gregor took a moment to think about that. He hadn't really had much contact with non-Outrider kids and the Outriders were definitely outliers from “normal” society.

“I don't know,” he said honestly. “Are you?” the stranger ran a hand through his hair and glanced to where Markus and Ashe were sleeping.

“I'm assuming they usually take care of him,” he said, deflecting the question. Gregor nodded.

“I don't think Ashe trusts me around him,” he said, glancing at Charoth. To the stranger's evident surprise he didn't sound upset about that at all.

“I hope for your sake they make a speedy recovery,” he said. “The name's Moren,” he added as an afterthought.

“I'm Gregor,” Gregor replied. “Over there's Markus and Ashe and this is Charoth,” Moren nodded thoughtfully. Their conversation ended there.

***

The wait for Ashe and Markus to wake was far from calm. Neither Gregor nor Moren knew what to do or how to respond to Charoth's signals. This in turn lead to Charoth being frustrated, which only further agitated the situation. They managed to scrape through until nightfall with the help of the ship's doctor after which point Charoth went to sleep and Moren retired to his corner of the cargo hold.

Gregor, too, was about to go to sleep when a soft rustling from the direction of Markus and Ashe made him sit up. Ashe had moved, if only a little. Her eyes were open and as per usual glowing faintly in the dark. She tried to push herself into a sitting position but failed. Her entire body felt as if it was weighed down by a heavy blanket. She coughed weakly, trying to get her lungs back to working at full capacity.

“Ashe?” Gregor's voice from nearby made her look around though it was too dark for her to see anything.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I saved you,” Gregor said. Ashe's eyes suddenly widened and she tried to sit up again.

“What about Markus?” she asked. The last thing she could properly remember was trying to heal him. Everything after that was a haze.

“I saved him, too,” Ashe relaxed, if only a little.

“Good. Help me sit up,” Gregor frowned.

“The doctor said you shouldn't strain yourself-”

“Gregor,” there was a sort of finality to her voice that made him steady her and help her into a more upright position. Once she was sitting he propped her up against the nearest crate. She grumbled something about feeling like a doll but otherwise remained pensive. A harsh cough from Markus made both Ashe and Gregor turn toward him, or rather where the noise was coming from. The only source of light in the cargo hold at the moment being Ashe's eyes.

“I feel like I've been run over by five thousand horses,” Markus said as a small flame sputtered to life in his hand, solving the problem of the dark. He turned his head to look at Ashe and Gregor.

“Do you have any idea what that was?” Ashe asked. Markus nodded and tried to push himself up but all he managed was a feeble twitch of his fingers. He frowned and summoned a couple imps who promptly helped him sit and moved him over to lean against the closest crate not occupied by Ashe.

“A magical phenomenon that drains anyone who shows any kind of mystic power so they can't fight when its minions come to scoop them up,” Markus coughed again. “To be fair I've never personally encountered anything like it before, so it's not my fault I didn't recognize it,” there was a joking tone to his voice but Ashe paid no attention to it as she suddenly tensed up, intensely aware of everything in her surroundings. There was no getting around the fact that she had collapsed. Gregor had seen it, Markus likely vaguely remembered something to that effect. Her face must have given her thoughts away because Gregor suddenly smiled in what should probably have been read as a comforting way.

“We won't ask,” he said. She blinked. “Markus says magic can be very personal, so it's your business,” he clarified. She had expected them to be a bit curious at best, demand answers at worst. The sudden warmth that blossomed in her chest made her acutely aware of the fact that she had come to care for these people. It was strange to be around people who cared about her as a person rather than the Guardian. Gregor's words made her feel at home and safe and she wasn't entirely sure she could handle that yet. She quickly cast about for something to change the subject and her eyes landed on the porthole.

“So what about the ship? Are we still on course?” she asked. Gregor shrugged helplessly.

“I've been down here all day,” he said.

“Shouldn't there be someone on night watch?” Markus asked. A loud clearing-of-the-throat from a corner of the room made the three look up. Moren was laying partially over a crate looking very tired and put out.

“Then either go up there and ask or go to sleep. I understand that Gregor's spent all day worrying about you two and that you probably need to talk about some stuff but right now you're interrupting my sleep,” having delivered his piece he slid back behind the crate. The three companions glanced at each other. Gregor stood quietly, walked over to Markus and picked him up. Once Markus was safely in the area they had claimed earlier that day he did the same for Ashe before curling up himself beside his glaive and going to sleep.

***

The first light of morning had Ashe already up on deck, trying to shake off the lingering unpleasantness of yesterday's events. Charoth sat by her side, his small hands trying to hold hers. She smiled softly at his fierce determination.

“Sorry if I gave you a scare,” she said, patting his back gently. He shuffled closer to her and snuggled up to her leg.

“Excuse me, miss?” she turned back to the crew member that had come to deliver the bad news. The storm had, as she had suspected, blown them off course. Though she had yet to be informed just how bad the situation was.

“Oh, sorry. So how badly off course are we?” she asked. The crew member sighed.

“We're at least ten days from Grius,” was the answer. “And to make matters worse we're in Mer waters, you'd better keep anyone attracted to women below deck, in case any of the younger ones get it in their heads they want to target us,” Ashe tensed suddenly. She had no wish to drown and she rather thought there were safer ways to figure out that particular part of herself that exposure to mermaids. She stood quickly and scooped up Charoth.

“Thank you,” she said and began walking towards the door to the lower decks.

“Hey Ashe-” Markus poked his head out the door. She sped up her walk towards him and pushed her way past below deck.

“Unless you are one hundred percent sure you're not attracted to women stay inside, we're in Mer waters,” she said. Markus chuckled and stepped out into the sun.

“My sexuality matters about as much as an ant in a hurricane. We're completely safe, there's an Elder bellow the ship. The young ones won't be playing today,” he walked over to the railing and glanced down into the water. Ashe turned and stepped out again.

“How do you know that?” she asked, looking down and immediately she got her answer. “Oh,” she breathed out slowly at the sight of the sheer power and majesty held by figure in the water below them. She was easily three times the size of the ship, her tail shining in the light of the morning sun. Her black hair flowed easily, protected from tangles by some magic the young ones had yet to learn. Despite her title of Elder no age showed on her face. Ashe wondered what her song must sound like. Merfolk lived centuries and judging by her size she had been around for a _long_ time. It would probably be full of stories, wisdom, enchanting yet not for the purpose of drowning sailors.

“Yeah,” Markus said staring down. Ashe vaguely registered the door opening and Gregor coming to stand by her side but she was too blown away by the mermaid bellow the ship. She had seen merfolk before, living on an island nation kind of guaranteed you'd see some at some point in life what with the yearly migrations of the young ones. She knew a lot about them too, fishermen used to swap stories, but she had never in her life thought she'd see an Elder. They were often considered old wives' tales.

“There's an entire pod down there,” Gregor's voice broke her out of her stunned reverie and upon further inspection she discovered he was right. Around the Elder flocked smaller merfolk, most where the size of an average human or a little larger, there were one or two the size of a large shark. A head peaked out of the water curiously to peer at them but a signal from the Elder made her turn and dive back down.

“Magnificent, aren't they?” Ashe turned to look at the Captain. She was perched on the railing, looking down at the water bellow them with a small smile on her face. “You know they get a bad rep, but they're really not that bad,” Gregor eyed her suspiciously.

“They drown people,” he pointed out. Lilja laughed.

“Not once they grow some common sense,” she retorted before jumping down from the railing and walking away.

“Did you find out how delayed our arrival in Grius will be?” Markus asked once Lilja had left. Ashe nodded and shifted Charoth's position slightly to stop her right arm, the uninjured one, from going to sleep.

“We're at least ten days away,” she said. Markus groaned.

“That's not good,” he said as he took Charoth, who promptly shoved his forehead into the tiefling's good shoulder.

“Why?” Ashe asked as she took a step back from the railing to shake her good arm. She winced at the pins and needles and realized she had definitely been in the same position for too long.

“I get uneasy surrounded by water,” Markus said. Ashe was about to say something to comfort him when Charoth yawned and snuggled closer to him. Markus responded by gently cradling the child and letting him nod off.

Ashe frowned and walked over to the two, placing a hand on Charoth's forehead. She was gentle so as not to waken him and relaxed slightly when her suspicions about a fever were laid to rest. Charoth was at his normal temperature.

“That's weird... he's usually awake all day,” she said quietly.

“Aw, but he was worried about you yesterday,” Gregor said. Ashe glanced over at Gregor, then back to Charoth. She stroked his hair gently with a small smile on her face.

“I suppose you're right,” she admitted.

“Speaking of which,” Markus said, seemingly eager for a distraction. “How are you feeling? I know I'm feeling pretty God damned awful but that may just be me,” Ashe nodded thoughtfully.

“Dizzy, tired, weak and my shoulder is going to hurt for a while” she offered with a half-shrug.

“Any nausea?” Markus asked. She shook her head.

“No, why?”

“Oh well because I couldn't eat breakfast, and I'm not dizzy... other than that our symptoms seem to match up,” they fell into a period of silence. Or Ashe did, Gregor and Markus began discussing the inns and outs of merfolk society. She listened with half an ear for a while, about how all merfolk who weren't women stayed deep in the ocean and the young ones among those who came to the surface viewed human life as meaningless. To them their singing was a game, but as they grew and learned how to control their magic they stopped. After a while she moved away from her companions. She walked to the bow of the ship and looked out over the endless expanse of ocean before her. There she settled quietly and let herself rest, trusting the Markus could handle Charoth on his own for a little while at least.

The days passed quietly. Markus' worries about the sea were somewhat laid to rest with the help of Ashe and Gregor. Moren kept mostly to himself and while Markus had asked him about his reason for wanting to visit Grius he had kept it to himself, saying it was private. The last of the lingering weakness vanished by the third day and they were out of Mer waters by day five. The sailors breathed a collective sigh of relief, though some were more concerned with the fact that no one would believe them when they told the story of an Elder swimming right below their ship. The weather looked to be going in a favourable direction, too. At the moment, however, none of this was of any concern to Ashe. She sat quietly in a corner of the cargo hold, drifting into the realm of dreams while listening to the waves.

***

She walked through a foggy marshland, struggling to keep going. A small, nagging voice whispered discouragement in her ear. The earth was unsteady beneath her feet as she leapt from one tree's location to the next, knowing those places were the least likely to give way underneath her and trap her.

“You'll never make it,” the voice whispered again. She scowled and kept going. She had to get out, back to Charoth, Markus and Gregor. They were waiting for her. Probably worried. She looked out and around for her next tree but found the fog pressing against her eyes. She could barely see the tree she was standing next to. A small step to the side proved a horrible mistake as the moss under her foot gave way and she sank.

With a yelp she grabbed for the tree but found a hand in hers instead. She followed the arm up to an unmistakable face. One with two horns situated neatly on the forehead.

“Need some help, there?” Markus grinned down at her. She glared at him.

“No I'm perfectly fine,” she said sarcastically. Markus laughed and pulled her out of the mud. As she moved up the world around her shifted and changed, the throne room of a grand palace blossomed around them. Markus grinned triumphantly and she looked up at the throne to see her father situated there.

“I got your princess,” Markus said. She turned to gape at him.

“Wha- _Princess_!?” she demanded. He gave her a confused look.

“Are you not?” he asked.

“No! Where did you even begin to get that idea?” she asked. Before she could get an answer from him the scene morphed again. They were falling, hurtling from a mountain top towards the ground. Ashe reflexively grabbed for Markus but found herself alone. Her heart lurched as she closed her eyes and curled up into a ball, waiting for the impact.

She sat bolt upright, out of breath and looking around wildly without taking anything in. She pressed a hand to her chest and closed her eyes, willing herself to calm down.

' _Dream, it was just a dream,_ ' she repeated to herself. In the sudden stillness as she began to settle she realized things were not as quiet as she had thought. A voice was singing somewhere to her right. As soon as she realized this she began so register the words.

 

 _'I'm Markus Velafi, I come from the stars,_  
_That fuzzy part right between Venus and Mars,_  
_Let me just snap my fingers; you may see a flash..._  
_It's impressive, I know, let's talk cash!'_  
  
_Yes, take it from me,_  
_He's as much as he seems:_  
_A leader that's famed for his glory!_  
_If you listen real close to the wind in the trees,_  
_You'll hear whispers of him and his story._

  
_So gather real close to the smouldering coals,_  
_Soak up the fable and strengthen your souls,_  
_And recall when you're out there and seeking your goals._  
  
_If you're ever in need of a hero,_  
_Or a man that can walk 'cross the sea,_  
_Just give a murmur, you need not look further,_  
_Than the man they call Markus Velafi!_

 

As Markus finished the song that must have wormed its way into her dreams she focused on him properly. He sat with his back to her, illuminated by the moonlight shining through the porthole. He was still humming the tune of the song softly while Charoth rested securely in his arms. Ashe couldn't help the smile that grew on her face, there was a serenity about the scene that made her unwilling to intrude. She remained quiet until Markus stopped humming and settled Charoth back into his bedroll.

“You could have woken me, you know,” she said quietly so as not to wake Moren, Charoth or Gregor. Markus started and turned a bit too quickly at the sound of her voice, causing him to stumble and almost fall.

“I don't think I've ever actually seen you sleep before,” he said, quickly recovering his balance. “I didn't want to interrupt,” she got up and walked quietly over to him to sit down beside him.

“Nightmare?” she asked, looking at Charoth. Markus nodded, taking a seat himself.

“I figured singing might help him calm down,” he said. Ashe fidgeted slightly.

“You really didn't have to...” she sighed. Markus grinned.

“Ashe, what was the point of teaching me how to take care of Charoth if not to give yourself some time off? Besides I couldn't sleep anyway,” he said. She leaned her chin on her hand and regarded him carefully. After a few seconds she decided if there was something bothering him that he wanted to talk about he would. If not to her, then to Gregor.

“Thank you,” she said and left it at that. Markus' grin broadened as he stretched and flopped down onto his own bedroll.

“When we get to Grius I am sleeping for a week,” he sighed, a certain degree of longing in his voice. Ashe snorted and settled herself back in her corner.

“Goodnight, Markus,” she whispered. He was already asleep.

***

The morning of their arrival in Grius dawned and as per usual Ashe was up before anyone else save those few crew members that had worked through the night. She moved quietly out of the cargo hold, leaving Charoth behind for the first time since the beginning of the voyage. As she emerged on deck and breathed in the crisp morning air she couldn't help the small contented sigh that escaped her.

“Well you're here,” she said to herself, staring at the faint outline of an island in the distance. She wasn't arrogant enough to believe in any way, shape or form that everything would go exactly as planned. The storm had already delayed them by almost two weeks, twelve days instead of the estimated ten. They were here on a hunch, a hunch that had a high chance of being correct but still just a hunch. In the dawn of this new day, however, she dared to hope that they would find what they were looking for here.

The wind picked up and the sails were adjusted. She moved quickly out of the way of some sailors rushing past her on an unknown errand. Other than that it was calm, somewhere bellow her her companions were sleeping. She breathed out and started to hum a tune that slowly morphed itself into words.

 

 _Another tranquil morning,_  
_Before the others start their din._  
_I thought I heard a warning,_  
_Aloft upon the western wind._  
  
_A spectre from a time now past,_  
_Tired thoughts of distant glens._  
_But I know by now this earth is vast,_  
_I'll never go to Meathe again._

 

She came to a halt and opened her eyes. She was not aware that she had closed them. As she settled deep into her thoughts, plans for the future if they were wrong about this, plans for the future if they were _right_ she was left merely staring out over the water towards Grius without really seeing.

About an hour and many trains of thought later someone calling her name brought her back to the waking world. She turned quickly to Gregor, who did not look like he had just woken up though going by the sun's position he had woken not more than five minutes ago.

“You OK? You seemed a little lost,” he said. She shook her head.

“Thank you Gregor but I'm fine, just got a lot to think about I guess,” Gregor nodded.

“OK well, if you want to talk I'm here and so is Markus,” he said. Her lips twitched into a small smile.

“Just don't throw yourself overboard and we'll be fine,” she said, walking past him towards the door to the lower decks.

“I can't swim why would I throw myself off the boat?” Gregor asked. Ashe rolled her eyes fondly.

“It was an example,” she sighed. “Just don't do anything too ridiculous,” she settled on. Gregor looked more confused than ever. Ashe was about to clarify further when she caught a glimpse of blond hair out of the corner of her eye. She turned and heaved a massive sigh at the sight of Markus performing one of his card tricks for the sailors with Charoth seated on his knee.

“Hold on, Gregor, I'll get back to you,” she said and started walking quickly towards Markus.

“Now, find the ten of spades and the money's yours!” Markus said. The first sailor tried and failed, so did the second, third and fourth until there was one card left. Ashe let her fingers spark with green energy for a few seconds and when the last card was turned there was the ten of spades. The sailor who had turned it gathered her money and Markus frowned in confusion.

“Come on Markus, time to pack up,” Ashe said, picking up Charoth and grabbing Markus by the collar to haul him to his feet. Which was very easy given that he was about as light as a morning breeze. He dusted himself off and regained his footing so smoothly you'd hardly have known his con had just gone awry.

“Very well, if you will excuse me,” he bowed to the sailors.

“Come on,” she tugged him out of earshot. “Don't con them, they could still drop us in the ocean and Gregor can't swim,” she hissed. Markus shrugged.

“Hey, if they're foolish enough to fall for that old trick they deserve to lose some money, if just to teach them a lesson,” he defended himself. Ashe groaned and let go of him. He straightened and brushed a stray hair out of his face.

“Markus no,” she sighed and shook her head, deciding to spare herself the headache and leave it at that.

  
***

Since there was no way for the ship to dock, Lilja rowed them to shore in a lifeboat and left them there. Moren quickly took his leave of them and walked with purpose down the shore, almost like he knew exactly where he was going. Ashe looked about the shore, trying to figure out the new surroundings.

“So we're here...” Ashe said. “What's next?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes Ashe is starting to compose Home No More. Whether she knows it or not.  
> Also yes the card trick thing did happen in an episode.
> 
> ...why do I keep writing and posting these chapters when in a state akin to acute sleep deprivation?


	4. Chapter IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it!
> 
> I finished the chapter before I turned 17.  
> Technically it was already my birthday when I did.  
> But it wasn't 9:34 yet so HA
> 
> Also to anyone wondering about the spelling of Kyr's name he hasn't had a chance to meet Kyrlos and change it yet so return to the past we must.

Markus looked in the direction Moren had gone and began to follow, but his plans of espionage were tragically cut short by a certain white haired individual. He had made it about two steps away when Ashe grabbed his cloak and stopped him in his tracks.

“Come on Ashe, you can't tell me you're not at least a bit curious?” he turned to her and found her scribbling down something on a piece of parchment. She blinked and looked up at him.

“What? Oh, right,” she glanced down at her hand and released his cape. Markus gaped at her.

“Did you... did you just do that on reflex?” he asked. “You know I was going to get offended about the fact that you apparently think so little of me that you have to subconsciously keep tabs on me at all times but that's actually pretty impressive,” Ashe rolled her eyes and went back to sketching their surroundings.

“Sure I'm curious but I respect his privacy. It's incredibly unlikely that his business on these islands has anything to do with us, and whatever it is he was obviously unwilling to talk about it when you asked him earlier,” she stood up and tucked away the beginnings of a draft of a map into her bag. Then she stopped and looked around. “...where's Gregor?” Markus blinked and looked around as well. It was true, their red clad companion had vanished. Ashe swore. Markus covered Charoth's ears and glared at her.

“Ashe-” he began.

“Don't,” she said fiercely, turning and starting to follow the tracks Gregor had left in the sand. “Just... shut up and lets look for Gregor and hope to the Gods he hasn't gotten himself seriously injured and why did I think I could take my eyes off you for more than two minutes!?” Markus quickly walked around her so he was facing her again, awkwardly half-jogging backwards.

“OK how about we just... breathe for a second first?” he suggested. She glared at him but did stop and take a deep breath, Markus smiled at her. “Good, now think about it, is Gregor the type of person who would, upon landing on a completely new shore, immediately seek out the closest deadly danger and-”

“YES!” she all but exploded. Charoth, hearing her obvious distress, moved and tried to hug her as best he could with his small arms. She took another deliberate breath. “Yes, Markus that is exactly the kind of person he is! Not that he actively seeks out the danger, that's your thing, it's more like he rushes in without thinking and- this is not the point. You've travelled with him longer than I have you know this!”

She paused for a second and pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “Actually, correction, you should know this,”

“Yes I see your point now,” Markus conceded. She nodded curtly and continued her walk following the, thankfully visible, trail Gregor had left behind.

***

“Can you... I don't know... use your magic to try and locate him?” Ashe asked after a period of silence. Markus tapped one of his horns in thought.

“Location spell, location spell... no I don't think I know one of those at the moment,” he said apologetically. Ashe sighed.

“It's OK Markus, for now at least we have a trail,” Ashe looked down at the footprints again. They were leading away from the beach up to a more wooded area. Her heart sank. She knew how easy it was to lose a trail in a forest. Granted she'd grown up with forests so dense you had to squeeze between the trunks at some points but a forest was a forest none the less.

Just then a familiar head of brown hair poked out from behind a tree. Ashe breathed an audible sigh of relief before her countenance darkened into a scowl. Behind her Markus mouthed something that looked suspiciously like “run” at Gregor.

“You two sure are slow,” the brunet said. Ashe stared at him in disbelief.

“No, no you just left without talking about which way we should go!” she exclaimed.

“She does have a point Gregor, we were worried,” Markus interjected. “But seeing as you're safe and not dead as far as I can tell, what did you find?” Ashe turned to glare at Markus, then back to Gregor.

“No, before that we need to talk about how we're a team now and how you can't just go wandering off without telling anyone, you'll end up worrying people!” she gestured at Gregor.

“There's a path here,” Gregor said. Ashe groaned.

“And you're not listening to me,” she sighed. Markus placed a hand on her shoulder.

“We're listening, and I'm sure Gregor will be more careful in the future,” he said. She shook his hand off.

“I want that promise from you, too,” she said.

“I make no such promise,” he promptly responded.

“Great,” Ashe threw her free hand in the air. Charoth gave Markus and Gregor the most disapproving look ever given by a child.

“Hm,” Markus looked at Charoth. “You know I don't think I've ever been judged so intensely by a baby before,” he commented, Ashe smiled at Charoth.

“He's a good kid,” she said. Markus raised an eyebrow.

“So are you coming or not?” Gregor called. Ashe nodded somewhat reluctantly and walked over to him, quickly followed by Markus.

What Gregor had found was not just a path, or rather, it had not always been just a path. Twenty odd years of being left mostly alone had turned the old cobblestone road much greener than it had been once upon a time. Nature had quickly moved back in once humans had gone. Ashe wondered quietly to herself if this meant there were no spirits here after all, or if they just left to roads alone.

She got her answer quite quickly in the form of dissipating greenery. While there were still trees to either side of the path the cobblestones were far more visible a little further along. Clear signs of at least somewhat regular use were everywhere. Which meant that either Grius was more closed off than Meathe (which would be a feat in and of itself) or it was actually a home to just spirits these days.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” a sharp voice demanded. The company turned to see a creature of some sort with ears sort of resembling those of a cat and a long tail. She was carrying a stack of firewood in her arms, which she promptly dropped in order to better scrutinize them.

“We are but humble travellers-” Markus began.

“We don't get travellers,” she said flatly. “There's only one guy I know of who visits and none of you are him,” she crossed her arms.

“We really are just travellers,” Ashe interjected, drawing the stranger's attention. The stranger stopped short and stared at her, eyes wide in amazement. Well, she wasn't exactly staring at Ashe. She was staring at Charoth.

“Is that? No he'd be grown by now...” her eyes flitted to Ashe's face. “This wouldn't be a guy named Charoth's kid?” she asked. Ashe blinked and her arms tightened reflexively around her brother in a protective hold. Markus and Gregor glanced at her.

“Not exactly,” she said, eyeing the spirit.

“Oh... the resemblance is remarkable,” the spirit took a step back and studied the party again.

“How do you know Charoth?” Ashe asked. The spirit shrugged.

“Well I mean _I_ don't. Not personally. A spirit a few islands over knew him in a previous incarnation. Before the Queen saw fit to just give him away to some random human,” the spirit's distaste was clear in her voice. Ashe squirmed a bit.

“You don't like humans much do you, Miss...?” Markus glided back into the conversation smoothly.

“Dont,” said the spirit. Markus blinked, slightly taken aback.

“What?” he asked. She looked over to him properly and seemed to realize something.

“Oh, oh right that's my name. Dont. No apostrophe,” Ashe bit back her wish to comment. They seemed to be making some headway in making Dont trust them. Somewhat. Any which way she definitely had some information Ashe was curious about.

“So as I was saying, you don't like humans much do you, Dont?” Markus asked, resisting the urge to snicker at how that sentence sounded. Dont crossed her arms.

“In my experience they're nothing but loud and annoying,” she said.

“OK but how many humans do you know?” Gregor asked. Dont paused.

“Just one actually, he has a house here on Ishir,” she confessed. “But he's annoying enough for a hundred. A bit like an angry dog except smarter and louder,” she returned her gaze to Charoth. Ashe was torn between asking about seemingly the only human on the island chain and hurrying on her way.

“So this spirit who knew Charoth?” Ashe prompted instead. “Where can we find them?”

“Why do you want to see her?” Dont asked, squinting at Ashe.

“Well the simple fact of the matter is this child _is_ Charoth,” Markus said gesturing to Charoth. Ashe gave him an absolutely livid look.

“ _Markus_!” she hissed. Dont, however, had in her shock deflated into a much smaller, squeakier form. Ashe stopped her plans to yell at Markus to stare at the small pig with bat wings.

“...that's a pigbat,” Markus said. “I didn't think they existed. I thought she was a cat,” he looked at Ashe, who nodded her agreement.

“What? A cat?” Dont flapped up to about their eye-level. “Of course I'm not a cat! Why would you even think that?” she sounded rather offended.

“My apologies,” Markus said.

“So about Charoth?” Ashe asked, glancing sideways at Gregor who seemed to be having some kind of ecstatic freak out over the admitted adorableness of the pigbat. Dont looked at Charoth again.

“The spirit I talked about lives on Kinir. It's a few islands away... I could teleport you or you could take the ferry,” she offered. “Though if I teleport you Charoth will have to stay behind,” Markus opened his mouth to speak and Ashe quickly cut him off before he could get a word in edgewise.

“No, Markus, hold on for just a second,” she said. “Dont, why would Charoth have to stay behind for the teleportation?”

“Oh well that's easy, because of the massive damage the teleportation process inflicts of course,” Dont answered merrily.

“There it is,” Ashe said, turning to Markus. “This is why you always ask about things that seem too easy, and don't pretend you were going to I've known you less than two weeks and I already know you were going to accept without thinking,” Markus made a mock hurt expression, but he could not hide the laughter in his eyes.

“Your distrust in me is astounding,” he said. "You know, for someone who trusts me to take care of her forever infant young- older. He's older. Wow that is really hard to keep straight," Markus scratched the side of his head. Ashe pinched the bridge of her nose and prayed for patience.

“How much does the ferry cost?” Gregor asked.

“Oh nothing as long as you don't break anything,” Dont replied. “Just continue down the road and through the village. You'll get to another house outside of it, it used to be the ferryman's house. Now Kier lives there, he set up a contraption that lets you pull the boat back and forth between the islands. No need for a ferryman any more. It's probably the only useful non-exploding thing he's made in his entire life,” Dont assumed her humanoid shape and walked back to her firewood. Ashe took that as the dismissal it was and continued walking down the road side by side with Markus with Gregor tagging close behind.

The village was eerily silent. Ashe could feel eyes on her the entire time, peaking through windows. Some curious, others hostile or frightened. She breathed an audible sigh of relief when they reached the ferryman's house. Or rather this Kier guy's house. It overlooked a steep cliff with a small, rickety-looking stairway leading down to an old pier. It became apparent to Ashe very quickly why the humans who had once lived here had opted out of building a bridge between the two islands. The side they were currently on was a lot higher than the awaiting shore, it would have been a tricky process and a ferry was probably easier. She looked down at the ferry and began her decent down the stairs. Beside her Markus eyed the steps warily before dissipating into a cloud of smoke and reappearing at the bottom. She was down and in the boat that lay by the pier as quickly as caution allowed, Gregor rather quicker.

On the next island the first thing they found was a crop of dead trees. Ashe eyed the surroundings warily and almost exactly at the moment Gregor put a hand on his glaive she moved a hand to the short sword at her back.

“This is probably not a good thing, there is like a ninety nine point nine percent chance this isn't a good thing,” Markus said, looking around.

“There is no possible way this could be a good thing since when have dead trees in an area inhabited almost solely by spirits _ever_ been a good thing?” Ashe asked.

“Well there was that one time about three years ago-” Gregor began.

“Rhetorical question, Gregor,” Ashe cut him off. Markus looked intrigued.

“No I'm curious, what happened?” he asked.

“The trees were a little bit cursed and a local nature spirit burned them down to stop the evil from spreading. Which was a good thing,” Gregor looked at Ashe.

“OK so there's an infinitesimal chance this might be a good thing,” she agreed. Charoth squirmed in his sling. Ashe glanced down at him and looked around again, grip tightening on her sword. Things that made Charoth uncomfortable were never good.

She got confirmation of this is the form of an ominous hiss. A large, brown serpent slithered out of the trees, eyeing them in a very predatory fashion. The group fell into battle stances, Markus beginning to charge up and Eldrich blast. The snake reared up, preparing to attack.

“Just run you can't defeat that thing trust me!” a voice called from within the trees somewhere to their left. Ashe glanced away from the huge serpent for a split second to focus in on a tall, red haired man gesturing at them from the bushes. Markus aimed the charging blast at the creature's eyes, making it recoil for a second, gaining them enough of an opening to sprint into the trees and after the large man.

With an enraged hiss the serpent's tail followed in the general direction of its attacker. The tail narrowly missed Gregor and Ashe before smacking hard and fast into Markus' back, sending the sorcelock flying into the trunk of a nearby tree. Ashe yelped and ducked another wild blow by the temporarily blind serpent as she ran for Markus. She picked him up rather unceremoniously and continued running.

“That broke some ribs,” Markus said in a stained voice. Ashe glanced briefly down at him before refocusing on the path before them.

“Just... don't move too much,” she said as she began to glimpse greener trees through the dead branches. The end of the serpent's territory. As soon as her feet touched the green grass she felt more at ease. An angry hiss from behind her made her look back to see the tail of the serpent vanishing into the dead trees of its home. Quickly she let Markus down and checked on Charoth, who was curled up closer to her than he had been. Gently she kissed the top of his head before turning to Markus and pulling him behind a tree, out of sight of Gregor and the tall man.

She pressed her hand to his chest, probably a little harder than was necessary. He winced as she let a charge of green lightning run through him, repairing the damage being smacked into the tree had done. Markus glanced down at his chest, then at Ashe with an impressed look in his eyes.

“I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about... this,” Ashe gestured vaguely at Markus' chest. Markus only had time to nod before Ashe had vanished back to Gregor and the tall man.

“Where did you go?” Gregor asked, peering back at Markus as the tiefling stepped out from behind the tree.

“I wanted to make sure Markus was OK,” Ashe replied as the tiefling in question plucked a leaf out of his hair. “More importantly who are you?” she turned to the tall man, who was furiously scribbling in a notebook.

“-seems concerned for his friends,” he muttered under his breath before snapping the book shut. Ashe raised an eyebrow. “I'm Kier Fiore and you're humans right?” he looked eagerly from Gregor, to Ashe, ignored Charoth, and finally to Markus.

“Mostly,” Markus agreed. “I am Markus Velafi and these are my companions Gregor Hartway, Aesling and her brother Charoth,” he quickly introduced everyone, stepping forward to shake Kier's hand. The engineer promptly took it and injected the back of Markus' hand with something. Somewhere behind them Ashe yelped and Markus was quickly dragged away from Kier.

“What did you just inject him with?” Gregor asked while Ashe checked Markus' pulse, temperature and pupils for any kind of abnormality.

“I'm fine Ashe, I... actually feel pretty good what was that?” Markus turned to Kier, who was jotting down some observations in his journal.

“I just made you better!” Kier grinned. “Though I see the protrusions are still there...” he squinted at Markus' forehead. The tiefling laughed suddenly.

“Oh, oh I see where this is coming from. No, no the horns are all me, and the tail too,” his tail flicked lazily from side to side as if to accentuate the point.

“Oh I get it you're one of those not spirit not human things...” Kier frowned, casting about for the term.

“Tiefling yes, thank you,” Markus squinted at the back of his hand. “Though technically speaking we're not the only creatures on this earth to be of neither realm,” Ashe stepped forwards a bit so she was standing level with Markus.

“Why doesn't Hell count as a realm?” Gregor asked before she could begin to say anything.

“We can talk about that later, Gregor,” she said before turning her attention back to Kier. “OK I have a few questions. One, what was that thing, two, why the _fuck_ would the ferry lead to its territory and three, how does anyone survive crossing!?”

“Oh that's easy, that was the Terrible Beast Malakai, the ferry was here before she was and no one's bothered to move it and anyone with half a brain knows to cross when she's sleeping,” he counted off his answers on his fingers. Ashe was torn between being offended and marching back to Ishir to strangle Dont for leaving out that little detail. “Mind you she's usually asleep this time of day...” Kier mused aloud, inadvertently quelling Ashe's anger.

“So what woke her then?” Gregor asked. Kier shrugged.

“You got me, I'm just over here collecting some things I need,” he held up a bunch of small pure white flowers with bowing stems, several bell-like flowers clinging to each stem. Markus stepped forward curiously.

“Don't touch those!” Ashe yelled as soon as she caught sight of the small, seemingly harmless flowers. “Well more like don't eat them,” she amended once Markus had halted and turned to her.

“I know what these are,” he sounded a might offended. “Very useful in various potions of the more lethal variety. Really this is basic stuff,” Gregor squinted suspiciously at Kier.

“Why do you need them?” he asked.

“To keep the small scurrying animals in my house away from my work space, of course!” Kier said merrily. Ashe raised an eyebrow.

“Wouldn't it be easier to get a cat?” she asked. Kier pulled out another notebook from somewhere and jotted something down. Charoth nudged Ashe and she blinked, suddenly reminded of the matter at hand.

“What's a cat?” Kier asked. Ashe stared at him for a few second but as Markus opened his mouth to answer she quickly interjected;

“Later, maybe, right now we have somewhere to be,” she looked over the orchard in front of them and began to move towards it. Markus, Gregor and Kier shared a look with each other and followed after her.

“So as I was saying a cat is a small, furry animal with triangular ears that purrs if it likes you and is a clawed monster of the shadows if it doesn't,” Markus told Kier, who suddenly gained a look of understanding.

“There are a few of those wandering around Kinir,” he said. Ashe tuned out the rest of the conversation until a question from Kier snapped her back to reality;

“So why are you thre- four here anyway?” he asked. Markus looked over at Ashe, who glanced backwards at him.

“We have a curse to break!” Gregor said excitedly.

“That doesn't really answer my question about why you're here but cool,” Kier said, then he lit up suddenly. “There's a well spirit on this island that knows a lot about a lot of thing, maybe you could talk to him about your curse!”

“Thank you for the offer,” Ashe said. “But we already have a goal in mind.”

“What harm would it do to just check it out?” Markus asked. Ashe paused and looked at Kier, thinking it over.

“I suppose if it's not out of our way,” she said after a period of deliberation. Kier grinned.

***

They continued through the orchard and Kier told them about the area as the walked. The information was varied and ranging from mildly interesting to 'really didn't need to know that'. The latter was mostly about the fact that he had apparently been born there. The fruits on the trees he had names Upchuck Fruits and he warned them, perhaps more than was necessary, not to eat them due to their vile taste. Ashe listened passively, occasionally tuning out more engineering centred conversation, as long as it didn't wander into 'dangerous for all involved' areas. She did perk her ears, though, when Kier mentioned wanting to compose a song for himself. Markus immediately jumped into a lengthy and incredibly detailed explanation on how his and Gregor's songs had come to be. The story included rather more mage duels and glaive fights than she had expected.

It wasn't long before, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of blond hair as Markus veered off to the side. Kier stopped as well and she turned, guessing this was where he had been leading them. She was right, of course, but this was completely driven from her mind as Markus tossed a coin into the well.

“Markus!” she exclaimed, completely aghast. They had all heard Kier's words, he was leading them to a well spirit and still Markus' first instinct upon seeing a well, probably the well that was the spirit's residence, was to toss in a coin. Likely onto the spirit's head.

“Who's tossing coins?” a voice from the well asked and a blue spirit rose from the depths, rubbing his head and glaring. “I moved from human populated areas to avoid this shit! Kier!?” Ashe groaned internally and stepped forward and, weather she knew it or not, between Markus and the spirit. Though if that was a subconscious effort to defend him and his ridiculously fragile body or to avoid any more shenanigans she could not have told, even had she been aware of the deed. Perhaps it was some of both.

“Hi Xandal-” Kier began, somewhat awkwardly but was interrupted by the blue well spirit grabbing a hold of the edge of the well and hauling himself up like a swimmer out of a swimming pool. He stared intently at Charoth for a few seconds then moved to Ashe. The white haired woman got the strange feeling that, if he had been willing to leave the water, he would be flitting about her studying her from every angle. Finally he settled, resting his chin in one hand and staring up at the group.

“Anything I can help you with?” he asked.

“Yeah! Do you know anything about curses?” Gregor asked. Xandal's eyes moved to Charoth again.

“Some,” he said. “No more than any other spirit, why?”

“Hypothetically speaking if a human made a deal with the Faerie Queen for a child but that child never grew what kind of legal tangle would we be looking at?” Markus asked. Xandal fell silent for a bit, thinking it over.

“Depends on the fine print, I suppose,” he said. Markus snapped his fingers, accidentally creating a mini fire on the tip of his index finger in his disappointment.

“So we know nothing new,” he sighed then he turned and squinted at Ashe. “You wouldn't happen to know the exact phrasing of your mother's request?” he asked. Ashe shook her head.

“Dad never told me anything more than he deemed necessary for me to know,” she said, a trifle regretfully. To herself the sentence was completely natural and she was so caught up in scouring her memory for any small, seeming insignificant detail her father might have let slip over the years that she missed Markus' quizzical look. Of course she wouldn't think to mention her mother, Ashe had never known her. Even less did she think to mention her parents as a unit for that had never been her reality.

“Is there anything useful you could do?” Kier muttered under his breath. Markus' questioning train of thought stopped instantly and Ashe buried her face in her hands. Xandal looked offended and actually did climb out of his well this time.

“I could repair or better any weapons you may have, I fancy myself somewhat of a blacksmith,” Markus, Gregor and Ashe turned to him all with rather confused looks on their faces. Ashe looked over to his well.

“Really?” she asked, somewhat incredulous. Xandal crossed his arms.

“Here, I'll show you,” he quickly grabbed Gregor's glaive and dove back into the well. Gregor made a sound akin to that of a distressed whale. Ashe placed a cautionary hand on his shoulder to stop him from diving in after Xandal.

“We're getting that back, right?” she asked. "In one piece?"

“Oh of course,” the spirit replied before he vanished beneath the surface.

Xandal dove quickly and with ease, reaching the bottom of the well where it broadened out into a proper living space. Through a small tunnel that was technically never supposed to be there he reached a cave with a pocket of air, something he had managed with minimal magic long ago. There he had set up his forge and now he set to work on the glaive.

It was a quick job, the blade was already made after all, all he really had to do was something small. Being a spirit of water the idea for something inspired by that element came quickly and as he put the finishing touches on the wave pattern he paused for a second. In a flash of inspiration poured just a drop of magic into it. Something soothing, like waves on the shore when the sun shone and the wind was calm. Some small concern for the young creature that wielded the blade was perhaps present in his decision to do so but if that was the case it was quickly and easily forgotten.

Outside the well Gregor was getting really antsy and Ashe worried he may do something rash unless Xandal returned soon. Luckily for everyone the blue spirit poked his head out of the water and handed the glaive to Gregor who inspected it with a critical eye.

“That'll be good for funnelling blood,” he commended idly on the pattern and ran a finger over the side of the blade. Immediately the soothing effect washed over him. “Wow so calming,” he said. Xandal nodded contentedly and after some idle chit chat during which the glaive was dubbed the Glaive of the Waves by Gregor he dove back into the well.

***

After the short detour they continued on their way in relative peace. Whatever else Grius, or rather the Shrouded Isles was it was definitely beautiful. They moved from the orchard to a beach with soft almost golden sand where a small boat with the same ferry system they'd used before. As for their new companion Charoth found him loud and a little overwhelming, Markus greatly enjoyed his company and Gregor was... well he was Gregor. Ashe was pretty sure he could make friends with anyone. She glanced briefly at Kier, trying to make up her mind about him. For the moment he really seemed like a danger to himself and every living creature within a five mile radius.

“So where are you going anyway?” the subject of her thought asked.

“There's supposed to be a spirit on this island who can help us,” Markus said, mildly distracted by the fact that it was currently his turn to take care of Charoth and the child seemed oddly determined to squirm as much as possible. Kier frowned.

“I don't know who you could be talking about the only spirit who lives on this island is the Queen's right hand,” he said. Ashe immediately focused in on him. Markus managed to tear his attention from Charoth for a moment. Thankfully he seemed to have calmed down somewhat.

“Are we talking like Captain of her armies? Seneschal? Advisor?” he asked.

“The last one... I think... she and I don't exactly get along well. Once she caught me chopping up her library,” Kier shrugged. Ashe let be for the moment the question of why exactly he was chopping up a library in the first place for more pressing matters.

“If she's the Queen's Advisor there's no way we can trust her!” she said despairingly. So far this was their only lead and she would rather avoid a heist of the Faerie Realm archives if at all she could.

“Don't worry I'm sure Dont wouldn't lie to us,” Gregor said cheerfully, seemingly unaffected by the news. Kier scowled and crossed his arms.

“Don't trust Dont,” he said sullenly. Ashe raised an eyebrow. Apparently the enmity between the two was more mutual than she had initially thought.

“I think you're missing the point. What are we gonna do now?” she asked while fighting off the urge to start biting her nails. She hadn't done that since she was five. Gregor placed the flat of his glaive on her cheek and immediately she felt calmer. Supremely unimpressed, but calmer. Carefully the pushed the sharp, pointy killing stick as far away from her as her arm could reach.

“Lets at least see what this Royal Advisor's like,” Markus reasoned.

“Lets also be cautious, OK?” she looked sharply at Markus, who just grinned at her in response.

“So Kier do you know her name?” Gregor asked.

“Of course, it's Ashe,” Kier said, looking somewhat confused. “I thought you knew that,” Ashe hid her smile behind a cough.

“I think he meant the Advisor,” she prompted.

“Oh, of course! Her name's Kyl'il,” he said just as the ferry came to shore. The four that could walk piled out with Markus still carrying Charoth and they began to make their way towards what had, according to Kier, been the capital city of Grius before its fall. Though town may have been nearer to the mark.

It was in surprisingly good condition, Ashe observed. Either Kyl'il, for some reason, kept the town from falling into ruin or growing up on Meathe had left her with a skewed impression of just how fast nature could take over a place once humans abandoned it. Either way there was a surprising lack of falling into disrepair going on.

Either she or Markus or Gregor would probably next have asked where this Kyl'il lived, but it became kind of pointless when they spotted two figures in the distance. They were standing near the door of a house with flowers all about it. One of the two looked significantly less human than the other. She towered over him, long curved horns extended from her head and she wore a golden semi-circlet that beautifully accentuated the fire on her forehead. Her entire being breathed elegance and authority.

The other one, however, looked utterly mundane. He looked more normal than anyone in the party. Simple, slicked back black hair, a white shirt, black vest and black pants. The only memorable things about him were the gun at his hip, his silver bracelets and his eyes. Honestly they rather gave Ashe the creeps. They were cold, dead. _Fish eyes_ some part of her mind whispered. She shrugged it off.

“She's gorgeous,” Markus breathed somewhere to her right. She glanced up at him and resisted the urge to close his mouth, which was currently hanging open as he stared at Kyl'il.

“Come on,” Ashe rolled her eyes and strode forwards. “Markus behave yourself,” she added as sort of an afterthought. As they approached it became apparent that Kyl'il and the unknown man were deep in some hushed conversation but as the man noticed their approach it died down quickly. The Queen's Advisor turned to them and it seemed for a split second that she was about to say something welcoming until her eyes landed on Kier and her face went into an extremely unimpressed, trying not to be aggressive “oh, it's you” sort of expression.

“What do you want, Kier?” she asked.

“Not me, definitely not me, them,” Kier said, taking a few calculated steps backwards. Markus quickly stepped forwards.

“And what is a gorgeous Queen's Advisor like yourself doing on the Shrouded Isles?” he asked. Kyl'il raised an eyebrow.

“I live here. The Queen and I don't need to be in the same room to communicate,” she said somewhat flatly. “Now who are you and why are you here with... him,” she glanced over at Kier.

“Oh my apologies, I'm Markus Tannhauser Velafi and these are my companions,” he gestured backwards towards Ashe and Gregor.

“Gregor Hartway,” Gregor introduced himself.

“Aesling,” Ashe said shortly. Kyl'il looked them over with a mildly suspicious eye before she suddenly noticed Charoth and her eyes flew back to Ashe like Mjölnir to Thor's hand.

“I think I'll wait to give you my name-” Ashe made an odd spluttering noise, which to her credit she silenced quickly. “-until you tell me why you're here and why that child is with you,” Kyl'il finished. No one cared to mention that they already knew it.

“Are you talking about Kier or the baby?” the man behind her asked. Ashe forced herself not to laugh as Kier distanced himself a little more, he looked well on his way to sulking in the first available corner.

“The baby,” Kyl'il said. Ashe bit the inside of her cheek as she tried to figure out how to proceed. Markus, too, seemed deep in though. Gregor looked rather like he thought the whole thing was a waste of time and they should just tell the truth.

“We're trying to find a way into the Faerie Realm. And he's my brother,” Ashe said. She didn't know how much Kyl'il guessed of knew about Charoth. A lot she assumed, given that the fire spirit was the Advisor to the person who had put the curse on Charoth in the first place. Still, she couldn't see any way to formulate a lie around this situation that wouldn't end with her digging her own grave. Half truths would have to do.

“Then I suppose you're trying to lift the curse,” Kyl'il said. Ashe nodded somewhat reluctantly and automatically reached for Charoth. Markus, reading the situation, handed him over to her and she hugged her brother close.

“For now we're really just trying to find a way into the Faerie Realm, though,” Gregor piped up. Kyl'il sighed and muttered something under her breath.

“Yes and we both know how good she is at that,” came the very dry reply from the still unknown man, who was now standing beside Kyl'il. Markus looked at him curiously.

“You know you seem really familiar...” he said. The man glanced briefly at him.

“We may have done business in the past,” the man replied easily, shrugging. Markus suddenly shied back with a horrified look on his face.

“Oh dear God it's you!” the tiefling damn near screeched. “I mean thank you for the Obsidian Fife but dear God it's you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, that's a load of new characters in one chapter!


	5. Chapter V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thog and Ashe fend off headaches but on the bright side things are happening. Which isn't the bright side because they aren't good things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Otherwise known as the chapter wherein we learn things about Thog (and not about Thog) and I spend way too much time describing the fucking weather.

Ashe looked at Gregor for an answer and he shrugged helplessly at her, her own confusion mirrored on his face. After his initial outburst Markus had calmed down drastically and was now squinting at the man as if he was trying to figure out a puzzle. The man himself looked completely done with the entire situation.

“That was an impressive glamour,” Markus said suddenly, realization dawning on his face. The man sighed.

“I don't know what you're talking about, now if we could get back to the subject at hand-”

“No really, I thought something was off about you back then but I never thought a Faerie could hide his power from me,” Markus sounded genuinely impressed. “You must be really powerful,” Ashe took this moment to step in.

“Markus you can catch up later,” she said. “For now I agree with this guy but I'd like to know his name,” she crossed her arms and stared at definitely the most mundane looking Faerie she had ever seen. Not that she had seen many. She also assumed that he actually was one of the fair folk as Markus had referred to him as such.

“The name's Thog,” he said and she almost missed it but as he said that he sent a sharp glance in Kyl'il's direction, the fire spirit's brow creased. In that brief moment of eye contact they seemed to have an entire conversation but the moment was over so quickly Ashe almost thought she had imagined it.

“OK so do either of you know a way for us to get into the Faerie Realm?” Ashe looked from Thog to Kyl'il.

“I'll be blunt there's no way for you to get into the Faerie Realm right now unless you're a spirit,” Thog said. Ashe blinked before sitting down heavily on a nearby stone and letting those words sink in.

“Isn't the Faerie Realm a place? How could we not get in?” Gregor asked.

“Yes the Realm is a physical place in this world, but that doesn't mean the barrier is open at all times. How is it, do you think, that no mortal can point to its location on a map?” Kyl'il held up her hand and a small fire sprouted there, forming the shape of an island.

“See, right now the Queen's in a bit of a bad mood. Word is her heir isn't suited to the throne and there was a scare recently. An expedition of humans came far too close to discovering the location so the Queen cut off all portals, doorways, Faerie Rings, magical walk-through stones and whatever else magical bullshit can get you there and the barrier's tighter than ever. Chances are it won't come down for another century,” Thog said. Suddenly Kyl'il seemed to straighten and a thoughtful look crossed her face.

“There... may be a way, actually,” she said cautiously. She looked at Charoth again and her decision seemed made. “There is one she didn't bother to close. Probably because she figured no one would be foolish enough to try it,” Thog stared at her as if she had completely lost her mind.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he sighed. “She didn't close it? It's almost like she's asking for trouble,” he rubbed his forehead as if that would make the impending headache go away.

“This sounds very dangerous, possibly deadly,” Markus said. Kier wandered back towards them with a furry creature draped lazily over his shoulders. Upon closer inspection it seemed to be a stray cat.

“There's a doorway in the Prison of Lights,” Thog sighed. “It's been there since before the Queen's great-great grandmother's time,” there was clearly something left there. Something he didn't say.

“And just what _is_ the Prison of Lights?” Ashe asked.

“It used to be a prison for the spirits that could not be allowed to reincarnate, they were just too dangerous. There are a couple such spread across fey country but the Prison of Lights was the biggest and most infamous,” Kyl'il said.

“'Used to'?” Ashe asked. Kyl'il sighed softly.

“A long time ago a General in the war between humans and spirits went rouge. The war was ending but he could not accept that as truth. He did everything in his power to continue the fighting. Ironically this only served to speed the peace as humans and spirits both agreed he was too dangerous to walk free. They sealed him in the Prison of Lights and the King of that time declared that none should pass there again,” she explained. Ashe narrowed her eyes.

“So you're telling me the only way we can get into the Faerie Realm is to go through an ancient prison with a ridiculously strong spirit inside? Did you miss the fact that we have a baby with us?” Ashe gestured at Charoth.

“He wouldn't have to go through the Prison of Lights,” Thog said suddenly. Ashe frowned.

“I don't see how not if that's the only way in,” she countered. Thog gave her an infuriatingly smug look as if to tell her before any words were spoken that she had overlooked something that he hadn't.

“Not for spirits,” he said and something in Ashe's mind clicked to make it clear just what he was trying to say.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she said flatly. “I don't even know you!” Thog raised an eyebrow.

“So you have other options, then?”

She growled. Markus cleared his throat to gain everyone's attention.

“How about we sleep on it?” he suggested. “Or am I the only one who's realized that the sun is setting,” he was right, to the west the sky was a living flame as the sun set beyond the horizon, taking with Her the last light of day and making way for the night. Ashe sighed and ran a hand through her hair, next best thing to crossing her arms when Charoth prevented that.

“Do you have some place we could sleep for tonight?” Gregor asked, glancing around at the numerous empty houses.

“Pick any one of these houses, no one will care,” Kyl'il replied.

“But if you want a hot meal and some quality booze I own a bar on the Nine Shrines,” Thog interjected. The sound of a soft laugh greeted those words and the group turned to face a newcomer. Moren was walking up the path with his signature lopsided grin on his face.

“You haven't changed, I see,” he was looking directly at Thog. “Still keeping that old thing up and running? I thought you were the type of person to abandon failing business ventures,” Thog nodded, acknowledging Moren's presence but declined to answer.

“Wait you know each other?” Ashe asked, looking between the two of them. Moren glanced over at them and seemed to properly register their presence.

“Coincidences aside I'm really tired,” Markus said in an effort to stop this impromptu reunion.

“Why would we pay to sleep somewhere when it's free to sleep in these houses?” Gregor – who had been in deep thought for a while – asked. Thog crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

“Who said anything about sleeping, it's a bar not an inn.”

“A bar that no one has visited for, what? Twenty years?” Moren pointed out. “Is it really worth keeping it open just to piss of your-” catching Thog's look he suddenly fell silent. Ashe frowned at them but shook her suspicion off when Charoth yawned.

“See, he agrees with me,” Markus gestured to the child. “As nice as it was to see you again, Moren, we really need some rest,” Moren nodded.

“If you want my opinion there's a house at the entrance to the town which should house your party quite well,” Kyl'il pointed in its direction. Kier quickly sped off in that direction, cat now perched on his head.

Ashe, Markus and Gregor stayed long enough for Moren to assure them that he already had a place to stay. It became apparent to them rather quickly that he must have been the frequent visitor Dont had spoken of. He and Thog seemed to have some kind of understanding anyway, though how and where they met Ashe couldn't figure out.

“Speaking of Thog how'd you two meet anyway?” she asked Markus as they made their way to the suggested house and entered. The tiefling rubbed the back of his neck and stretched, looking around.

“Didn't he already say? He hired me to fix a monster problem he had back in Alaran,” he walked over to a door and peaked inside. “Found the bathroom, it's actually kinda fancy,” he announced.

“Oh, let me see,” Gregor walked over and looked inside the well polished room. “You're right this is fancy,” Ashe put Charoth down in an old easy chair and shook her head to prevent distraction.

“He was in Alaran?” she asked. “But... he's a Faerie, right? At least that's what you called him,” she looked at Markus, who turned to her.

“Yes I thought about that too,” he said as he opened another door. “Kitchen,” he announced and closed it again. Ashe opened the door she was standing closest to, right next to the outer door.

“Closet. Why would a Faerie be in Alaran?” she continued persistently. “ _How_ even? Don't the Alaranni enslave people who don't match their standard measurement for humanity?”

“There are three bedrooms up here,” Gregor called down the staircase. “And an attic,” Markus nodded and opened the second to last door on the first floor.

“Found the dining room,” he said and shut the door again. “I'd say he's probably one of the few spirits that could pull off living in Alaran without any suspicion,” he said. Ashe thought about that. Markus had mentioned something about a glamour. She opened the final door and an old, musty gust of wind hit her face. In front of her was a staircase going down into darkness. She could already tell from just looking at it that several of the steps would give way under her and those that didn't would creak incredibly loudly and annoyingly.

“We might want to avoid the basement,” she observed and closed the door again. “You said something about a glamour?” she prompted Markus.

“Yeah funny thing is I can't tell if he's currently casting a glamour over his appearance or not. He definitely used a strong one to hide his powers from people like me back in Alaran,” Markus sat down on a couch next to a coffee table and leaned back with a thoughtful look on his face. Ashe was about to pick up Charoth when she realized he had nodded off and decided to leave him alone for now. She sat down in a chair opposite to Markus' position on the couch.

“So do you think we can trust him?” she asked.

“Absolutely not,” Markus replied immediately with no hesitation what so ever. Ashe would probably have fallen over if she hadn't been sitting down.

“Wow that was... you didn't have to think about that even a little, did you?” she stared at him. Markus shook his head.

“Thog's a businessman, he likes contracts. Nothing in this world if free, if he's doing something 'out of the goodness of his heart' there has to be a catch,” Markus tapped his fingers on the armrest of the couch. “I just haven't figured it out yet...” Ashe hummed thoughtfully.

“He does want us to leave Charoth alone with him for an extended period of time. Maybe on the Queen's orders?” she suggested. Markus shook his head.

“I can't think of a reason why the Queen would be concerned with us. At the moment we're a minor disturbance at best,” they fell into a contemplative silence. At the sound of soft taps, like paws on the hard wood floor Ashe turned and watched the small orange tabby cat Kier had picked up casually making her way towards Charoth. Once at the easy chair she clawed her way up until she managed to curl up next to Charoth's head.

“There's supper over here,” Gregor peaked out of the kitchen and through the door they could vaguely see Kier already at the table. Ashe sent another glance in Charoth's direction but decided he was secure where he was and got up, Markus not far behind.

Supper was a surprise. Gregor has somehow managed to get his hands on rice, green beans and spinach. The spinach was not surprising, Ashe had spotted some still growing in the overgrown garden behind the house but she was unsure as to where the rest came from. Though considering the fried rice, green beans and spinach sauce were delicious (if somewhat of an unusual combination) she saw no need to question any further.

***

Ashe woke with the dawn and realized that, for the first time in a long time, she had nothing to do. On Meathe she had used early mornings to get even the slightest sliver of time for herself but ever since joining up with Markus and Gregor she found herself with enough of it. At least so much that she didn't have to scramble to get some peace of mind. With her friends on the other hand she usually woke early to get her packing done and think about what to do next.

Now, however, she had no packing to do, no desperate need for peace and their quest had come to a stand still until they could talk to Thog again. She sighed and glanced out the window. The sky was overcast, it would definitely rain later. Still she knew that behind those clouds the day was dawning. Not that she would have been able to see the dawn out her west facing window anyway.

“I guess I need to find something new to do with my time,” she said, resting her chin in her hand with a thoughtful expression on her face. With that she pushed the covers that still rested on her lap away from her and got out of bed. The old wood floor under her bare feet was familiar to her in that strange way where you encounter something you've grown up with but there's something different about it now. This wood was dead, her home on Meathe had been living and growing.

Briskly she walked over to the window and threw it open. The air outside was almost still, only a soft breeze from the west blew into the room. The air smelled of rain but she had been expecting no less. The world seemed calm, truly calm not the oppressive calm before a storm. In his little bundle of blankets on the other side of the room Charoth shifted. She glanced briefly over to him, trying to determine if he would wake up or not, but he seemed quite comfortable where he was.

The breeze blew past her face and it seemed to linger for a moment, toying with the ends of her short hair. She was almost scared to breathe, lest she disrupt the peace of the moment. The breeze carried with it the salty tang of sea air mixed with the smell of nature that was everywhere on the Shrouded Isles. It smelled like home. The scent of the sea may have been a little stronger here, they were closer to the shore and the woods weren't nearly as dense, but it was undeniably familiar. The words she had sung to herself yesterday morning came unbidden back to her mind and she chuckled.

“It really is the western wind this time,” she observed to no one in particular.

She stood at the window, lost in peaceful thoughts, not worrying about the future for once until the first raindrop fell onto her hand. She blinked and straightened as the rain began. She closed the window and listened to the sound of water softly striking the glass. Vaguely she could hear it on the roof as well, but as there was an attic between her and most of said roof it wasn't very clear.

She stretched and turned back towards the room. Her clothes, or rather those parts of her clothes that she couldn't sleep in, were on the dresser opposite the bed. Her short sword and knives lay on the bedside table and still one more hid under the pillow. She armed herself before anything else, mostly because most of her weapons were hidden beneath the various articles of clothing. Just as she finished tightening the last strap on her final arm guard she heard something hit the window that definitely wasn't water.

Cautiously she walked over to it and looked out through the glass. When she found nothing to be seen like that she reluctantly opened the window and leaned out, looking down. Thog stood there, looking rather like a drowned rat. The white shirt he wore was plastered to his skin and his hair lay flat on his head, the rain having washed out anything he may have used to style it. She raised and eyebrow and rested her chin in her hand.

“What was so urgent you couldn't wait for us to wake up?” she asked.

“Don't even try that I saw you moving around up there half an hour ago,” he replied. She shrugged.

“Yeah but I'm currently the only one who's awake,” she replied. Thog frowned.

“Do you have any idea when the others are going to wake up?” he asked. Ashe shrugged.

“Gregor's probably going to be awake in about fifteen minutes, Markus would sleep until noon if we let him and frankly I have no idea about Kier's sleeping pattern,” she was about to close the window when Thog seemed to vanish off the ground only to appear on her windowsill in the next second. She swore quite loudly and fell over backwards, reaching for something to catch her and stop her fall. With a jerk she stopped her decent, managing to grab hold of one of the bedposts.

“What the fuck, Thog?” she demanded angrily. He climbed swiftly into the room and leaned against the wall. His flight, or whatever it was, had apparently also come with a towel as he wasn't soaking wet any more and his hair was back to normal.

“We need to talk,” he said, as if he hadn't just flown up to two stories and basically broken into what was currently her room.

“You know there's this thing that houses generally have, it's called a door. Use it,” Ashe bit out as she got back on her feet. Behind her Charoth whined softly and she winced, realizing the commotion must have woken him.

“Realistically speaking there's no way you would have let me in,” Thog replied easily. Ashe glared at him as she walked over to Charoth and picked him up. He calmed down quickly and snuggled up close to her.

“Yes and breaking in is going to make me trust you why?” she asked.

“It's not, but at least now I have your undivided attention,” he shrugged. She stared at him.

“OK, talk,” she said, sitting down on the bed and fixing him with the most pressuring look she could muster.

“Yesterday, I admit, I was a little hasty,” he said. “It's only natural you wouldn't trust me, so let me explain why I want to help you,” Ashe scoffed but continued listening.

“I don't like the Queen,” he said this with such a straight face that Ashe actually took a moment to register exactly what he'd said.

“You do know we're just trying to break the cruse, right? We're not assassins or whatever you're thinking,” she said. Charoth yawned and seemed to wake up properly. Thog laughed.

“Believe me when I say there's no way you could take her down,” he waved his hand dismissively. Ashe didn't know if she should be relieved he wasn't expecting them to kill the Queen of the Faeries or offended he thought they couldn't.

“So why should you help us if there's nothing in it for you?” Ashe asked, remembering what Markus had said last night.

“If there actually was nothing in this for me I wouldn't, but if you manage to lift this curse because I helped you get into the Faerie Realm it will basically be the biggest fuck you I could possibly send m-” he stopped suddenly. “the Queen,” he finished. Ashe squinted at him suspiciously. She was about to ask what he was actually going to say when Markus burst into the room followed by Gregor, Kier and the cat that the engineer had apparently adopted on a whim. Though, thinking back, she realized it was probably her fault.

“Give him the Charoth test,” Gregor said eagerly. Ashe raised an eyebrow.

“The what?” she asked.

“The rest of us have all been judged to some degree by that kid, it's only fair that Thog get the same treatment,” Markus said, a clear sound of laughter in his voice. Ashe shook her head and turned back to Thog. Markus huffed and walked over to the bed, picking up Charoth and settling down against the headboard.

“I can already tell you he won't like me,” Thog said in a dry voice. The group seemed to collectively stop for a moment and stare at him. The still unnamed cat jumped from Kier to Gregor to the night stand and finally onto Markus' shoulders.

“How can you be so sure?” Gregor asked finally. Thog shrugged.

“Kids generally don't like me. And before you decide to feel sorry for me I don't like them either so I really don't care,” he replied but Ashe couldn't shake the feeling that he was lying. Or, well, not telling the entire truth. She had no problems believing children didn't like Thog. After all they were supposed to have very clear sight when it came to the hearts of others. She also had no problems believing Thog would find children annoying.

“And you're still offering to spend probably at the very least a day given how dangerous you've made the Prison of Lights out to be taking care of him?” Ashe crossed her arms and leaned back, scepticism plain on her face. Thog sighed.

“As I said, I have a personal interest in your mission's success,” he was starting to look annoyed now.

“We heard,” Markus said. “So why don't you like the Queen, anyway?”

“How long have you been eavesdropping exactly?” Ashe asked.

“I'm pretty sure they could hear your swearing on Ishir,” Kier said. Markus grinned and lazily scratched the cat behind the ears.

“And since you obviously weren't in any danger we didn't see the need to run to your aid. You'd probably just have hit us,” he said. Ashe sighed and pressed her hand to her forehead in frustration. Thog stood there in silence observing them and she was suddenly reminded why the conversation had spiralled into this branch.

“Yes why _don't_ you like the Queen?” she asked. “Is she a bad ruler or something?” Thog shook his head.

“Unfortunately for me she's damn near perfect. The Faerie Realm hasn't run this smoothly in centuries. The only negative thing anyone ever says about her is that she's too cold, too business minded but that's only among the courtiers and even they, petty as they are, realize the Realm's better off with than without her,” he pressed a hand to the side of his head, looking rather like thinking about the apparent perfectness of the Queen gave him a headache. His expression was annoyed bordering on angry. Ashe crossed her arms and stared intently at him.

“That doesn't answer the question,” she pointed out. He sighed.

“It's more that she doesn't like me. It's kinda hard to like someone who hates you,” there was a peculiar sort of melancholy in his demeanour as he said this, though Ashe doubted he knew it was there and she was sure he would deny it if confronted about it. She looked back at Markus, who shrugged at her, causing the cat to glare at him for jostling her comfortable position.

“Are you actually someone important?” Gregor asked, Thog looked over at him as if he was acknowledging the fighting man's presence for the first time.

“He talks to Kyl'il a lot,” Kier supplied helpfully. Thog glared at him briefly.

“I am known at court,” he said and seemed determined to leave it at that.

“Yeah, no. We're going to need a little more than that,” Markus said. Ashe could only agree, that explanation was sketchy at best.

“Look, I can get into the Faerie Realm with no problem and I can make sure the kid doesn't have to come with you through a dark, dangerous prison with a cannibalistic spirit haunting its halls. Are you going to take me up on my offer or not?” he tapped his fingers impatiently against his arm. Ashe glanced back at Markus, then further to Gregor and Kier. It was clear Thog's patience was wearing thin and it was likely if they didn't accept soon he'd give up on them and find some other way to send that fuck you to the Queen. He could probably actually find one much less risky to his personal safety, too. It wasn't likely that just bringing Charoth into the Faerie Realm would be enough to get him in trouble, but if they caused more of a stir than she intended to he definitely would. She sighed. With her friends that was definitely the likely outcome.

“Fine, but if he has so much as a scratch on him when I get him back you won't live to regret it!” her voice was sharp and everyone in the room, even those that hadn't known her longer than a day or so, believed her. Thog raised his hands in a sort of mock surrender.

“You wound me,” he said, with absolutely no sincerity and buckets of sarcasm. “If I wanted to harm him I definitely wouldn't go about it like this,” suffice it to say these words did nothing to appease Ashe's suspicion or lighten her mood. She grit her teeth, her entire being fighting the urge to punch Thog square in the face, if just to lift her unease a bit. A gentle hand on her shoulder pulled her out of her roiling mind and she blinked, looking over to Markus who was smiling gently.

“I don't like this any more than you do,” he said. “But it seems to be our only choice,” she sighed and nodded. Thog straightened and smoothed down his clothes. He had a rather unsettling smile on his face and judging by the look on Markus' face – one of unpleasant memories being woken – it was his 'nice doing business with you' smile. It was probably supposed to look harmless and calming, but Thog in his entirety failed at harmless and calming so naturally that Ashe though it completely pointless he even try to be the opposite.

Markus suddenly got up and walked out with Charoth still in his arms, picking up the staff that leaned against the wall by the door without looking at it as he passed. She would have smiled, had she not though keeping her face free from emotional reaction was beneficial at this point. Markus was beginning to read her brother better. She had caught on only a minute before Markus that Charoth was getting uncomfortable with the situation.

“Now that we know what to do next we should probably prepare ourselves for the trip through the Prison of Lights,” Kier's voice made her blink and turn to stare at him.

“We?” she asked. “You're coming with us?” Kier shrugged.

“It's not like I have anything better to do,” he replied even as the cat jumped from the bed where Markus had left her, over a multitude of things that weren't the floor and into Kier's arms where she proceeded to scramble her way up to his shoulder. Ashe raised and eyebrow.

“So you're leaving the cat here?” she asked. The feline seemed to have taken to Kier incredibly quickly and Ashe doubted it would be easy to leave her behind. She didn't have much experience with cats but those she had known were incredibly crafty and tended to get their way. Kier looked thoughtful.

“I suppose I have to,” he said a trifle regretfully. The cat gave him an absolutely scandalized look and quickly jumped from him to Gregor. Gregor blinked as she settled on his shoulder, very purposefully turning away from Kier. Ashe laughed despite herself.

“Call it a hunch but I don't think she agrees,” she said. Thog, accurately reading the situation as resolved for now, quietly opened the window and jumped out. Ashe shook her head in disbelief and walked over to it just in time to see Thog land with surprising grace. Moren greeted him with a comment she couldn't hear and Thog shrugged as the two made their way towards Kyl'il's house together. The rain had stopped and the clouds were thinning. The scent on the breeze was that lovely smell of nature after rain and Ashe couldn't help but smile.

***

After breakfast, which was a bit of a disaster thanks to the new but already deadly duo that was Kier and Markus, they headed towards Kyl'il's house. Moren was standing outside the door looking somewhat like a guard. He straightened a bit at their approach.

“Why are you out here?” Markus asked as soon as they were within hearing range. Moren chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.

“I'm not a member of the Faerie Realm's court, there are things I'm not allowed to hear,” he answered. Ashe looked at him curiously.

“Isn't that frustrating?” she asked. Moren shrugged.

“It's just something you learn to accept when you're Thog's friend,” he said. There was a weight behind the words and she guessed, quite rightly though she didn't know it at the time, that this had been a point of contention for the two. He leaned slightly to the side and knocked on the door.

“They're here!” he called through the door and it opened quickly. Kyl'il stood there and Ashe noticed that Kier had conveniently vanished.

“You have impressive timing,” said the fire spirit, a trifle cryptically. Behind her Thog rolled his eyes and stood up.

“What she means is we just got done talking about some shit and now she wants to give you a lantern to help you get through the Prison of Lights,” he translated. Ashe frowned.

“Why would we need a lantern? Going off of the name it doesn't exactly sound dark,” she looked at Kyl'il.

“I can see how the name would be misleading,” she agreed. “But it actually refers to the method of the seals inside the prison and since the old General's incarceration it has only gotten darker,” she sighed.

“Yeah sounds like we definitely need that lantern,” Gregor said.

“Also the lantern'll hold off the General so stay in the light,” Thog said. Markus nodded and held out a hand. Kyl'il handed over a beautiful lantern with a small but bright flame flickering inside of it. She also told them only the most human among them should carry it inside the prison. Markus rather looked like he was holding the most precious thing in the universe. Ashe resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“So what do we do now? Do we go today or do we need to prepare further?” she asked. Markus straightened and looked thoughtful. He glanced briefly to Charoth and then to Thog.

“Do you actually know how to take care of a baby?” he asked. Moren suddenly burst out laughing and Kyl'il hid her laugh behind a cough. Thog glared at both of them. Ashe raised an eyebrow.

“What am I missing?” she asked. Thog sighed deeply and as one who was about to admit something he'd rather not.

“I have seven younger siblings,” he said. Ashe gave him an unimpressed look.

“From what I've been able to tell you're also of noble birth,” she pointed out. She could have sworn she saw him cringe.

“Yes but back when siblings four to seven were growing up...” he grit his teeth and ploughed on. “I may have insisted the servants let me take care of them,” Ashe couldn't help herself, she laughed. So did Markus for that matter. Thog looked positively murderous.

“Sorry, sorry,” Ashe straightened and coughed. “Sorry,” Thog looked unamused to say the least. Markus giggled off to the side.

“Well I think you're well equipped to handle one baby,” he said as he managed to calm down. Moren leaned against the door frame with a wicked grin on his face, Thog shot him a warning look but it did not deter him in the slightest.

“After the triplets I'm pretty sure this guy can handle anything,” he said. Markus turned to him.

“I'm sorry did you say triplets?” he asked. “Wow you must really love your siblings,” he looked at Thog in undisguised amazement. The Faerie rubbed his temples, willing the impending headache to go away.

“Just give me the kid and go already,” he said tiredly. Ashe looked down at Charoth and reluctantly took a step forward. Charoth, sensing something was wrong, gripped tightly onto her tunic. She sighed and carefully detached him before handing him over into Thog's outstretched arms. Charoth squirmed, discomfort clear and Thog didn't look much better if she was going to be honest. His posture and the way he supported Charoth were perfect but there was a faint trace of awkwardness around him. She looked at Charoth again and gently stroked his head, his hands immediately sought hers and held on tight.

“OK Charoth, you have to stay with Thog for a bit now,” she said. He gave her a look that clearly stated how little he wanted to do just that. “I'll be back as soon as I can, promise,” she said gently and kissed his forehead before sending Thog a death glare.

“I know, I know, anything happens to the kid you'll skin me alive,” he said. She nodded curtly and turned on her heal exiting Kyl'il's house and moving with the others towards the Prison of Lights.

***

Some time after the party had entered the Prison of Lights Thog sat on a stool in the bar he owned on the Nine Shrines. The building was in good enough shape but it was clear no one actually came there any more. There were cobwebs in the corners, dust on the tables and the weather had long since destroyed the sign out front that displayed the name of the bar.

Charoth sat on the bar counter, looking sullen. Thog had been right in his guess, the child did not like him. At all. But then, he didn't like the child either so they were even. The door to the bar opened with a creak and he turned to see Moren standing there.

“Mind if I come in?” he asked.

“You're already in,” Thog replied flatly. Moren rolled his eyes good naturedly and walked over, taking a seat beside Thog.

“How long has it been since you were last there?” he asked, staring at Thog as if he was trying to figure something out.

“I was there yesterday,” Thog said, determined to misunderstand Moren's meaning. His friend gave him a flat look.

“That's not what I meant and you know it,” he said. Thog sighed and pulled his drink closer.

“I don't know, three years maybe?” he shrugged and downed the glass. Moren sighed.

“Are you even going to go back?” he asked.

“And miss the look on her face when this kid shows up again?” Thog shook his head and looked at Charoth. “That Ashe girl, too. That's probably going to annoy her even more,” he chuckled at the thought.

“She wasn't supposed to survive, was she?” Moren asked. “Provided she even existed in the first place,” Thog looked at him. For all that they had known each other for a long time Moren could still surprise him at times.

“No,” he said as the stared thoughtfully into his empty glass. “I don't think she was.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Thog isn't human. Also I don't know how much you can guess about him in this AU with what I told you in the chapter but I guarantee you there is definitely more to it than that.


	6. Chapter VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Prison of Lights is hell and Thog has a complicated family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is... a lot in this chapter. I wrote this thing and even I'm having a hard time processing it.

The Prison of Lights was dark. Very dark. Ashe felt a chill run up her spine as the oppressive darkness seemed to press down on them, even with Gregor carrying the lantern. Unfriendly eyes stared at them from just outside the circle of protective light, eyes that were none too pleased with this intrusion of the light into their realm of darkness.

Here they had been shielded for long years since their corruption. The light could never touch them here, they had thought. But now a mortal dared carry that cursed brightness into their halls and they were angry. Ashe sensed their anger keenly and she glanced at her companions, wondering if they did too.

Kier looked scared, but he stood tall. Gregor looked entirely unaffected and she wasn't sure if she should be impressed or unnerved. Markus was peering into the darkness around them with an all too seeing look. Ashe was suddenly reminded that he could see in the dark and wondered if the knowledge of what was out there was comforting or horrifying. Outwardly he didn't give any hints this way or that.

“What can you see?” she asked quietly. He looked down at her.

“There are corrupted spirits all around us. They shy away from the light but I don't think it'll be long before one of them works up the courage to attack us,” he looked out into the dark again. A great black dog, almost skeletal in how thin it was, leered at him and licked its chops. He resisted the urge to shiver. Those teeth could probably tear his arm off easily. Ashe cursed under her breath.

“Great,” she muttered. Markus glanced down at her again. She was stiff, her entire being practically screamed how uncomfortable and tense she was. She had probably never been away from Charoth this long in her entire life and certainly not in circumstances this tense. He knew that, in the long run, this would be good for her. Once Charoth started growing it would be beneficial for her to have been away from him for a time already, to make giving him the freedom to be a normal kid easier. Right now, however, she was likely intensely aware of the fact that she did not know where he was and she could not protect him.

“I'm sure he'll be fine,” Markus said casually. Ashe gave him a sharp look before she sighed and her shoulders drooped.

“I hope so,” she said. Markus chuckled.

“I think Thog values his skin enough to stick to your agreement,” he said. Ashe bit her lip, looking uncertain.

“I'm not sure he thinks I'm powerful enough to pose a threat to him,” she said. Markus raised an eyebrow.

“Don't underestimate him. He's very perceptive,” he said.

“Yeah and you can look real scary when you want to,” Kier added. Ashe didn't quite know how to feel about that. Mostly flattered since she had been aiming for threatening. The conversation ground to a halt as they approached the first fork in the road since crossing through the intimidatingly large gate. Markus peered to either side, small frown of concentration creasing his brow.

“The left hand passage turns to the right after a while and the right hand one seems to descend to a lower lever,” he said.

“Left,” Ashe said and the others nodded. They had no wish to descend further into the darkness of this pit than they already had if they could help it. They headed quickly down the left hand passage way, Markus had been right in about ten paces it turned sharply to the right. They had barely rounded the corner when an ear-piercing shriek shook the corridor. Ashe clapped her hands over her ears trying to block the horrendous sound. Everyone was so preoccupied trying to make sure their eardrums didn't burst they almost didn't notice the shape barrelling at the out of the darkness.

It was only at the very last second that Gregor managed to side step the thing – colliding full force with Ashe as he did so – and it vanished back into the shadows, growling. Markus shook his head, trying the clear the ringing out of his ears and looked back into the shadows where something that looked like it may once have been a satyr crouched, teeth bared with a feral look in its eyes.

“There is something very wrong with this place,” he said quietly.

“What was that thing?” Ashe asked as Gregor pulled her up off the floor. Markus shrugged and looked like he was about to say something when Kier let out this peculiar scared squeak.

“There is something on my back,” he said. Ashe was behind him in a flash, lifting his surprisingly heavy cape and ready to kill whatever it was that had been smart enough to hide where the light couldn't reach. What she found, however, was a shaking cat, claws dug into Kier's shirt and fur standing on end. Very cautiously she reached in and picked the tabby up so everyone could see her.

“We have a stowaway,” she said with a sigh that sounded oddly amused. The cat immediately scrambled back to Kier and in under his cloak. Where she found her perch, however, way beyond Ashe.

“I thought you were leaving her behind,” Markus said.

“I could have sworn I did,” Kier replied, looking perplexed. Ashe, while her mood had lifted slightly at the determined escapades of the now regretful cat, did not like lingering.

“Come on, lets keep moving,” she said, glancing nervously at the shadows around them. Briefly she considered giving herself darkvision, if just so that she could get a better sense of how bad exactly the situation was but Markus already had darkvision and using her power now would reveal said power to Gregor and Kier, something she wasn't entirely sure she was ready to do. Gregor, of course, already knew she had something she wasn't telling him about thanks to the storm but she still hesitated.

***

The path before them seemed to only get darker as they progressed. Not that the lantern was failing, it held a constant circle of light around them that none of the creatures of the Prison had dared enter since the first incident. The darkness at the edge of the light just seemed to be getting darker. The corridor they were currently walking down had several doors on either side. Heavy doors of thick iron. Ashe wondered quietly what kind of Faeries must be sealed behind them to warrant such a barrier.

They looked as imposing now as they had when they were first forged by the smiths of the Queen of that time. Special doors for the prisoners who were of the fair folk that would burn them should they attempt to escape. Ashe shivered. Other places in the prison likely had similar safeguards, should any prisoner manage to break their bonds.

The heavy look of the doors that lined the walls only made it more startling when at the end of the corridor where it forked they found a simple wooden door. Markus bent down without a word and peaked through the keyhole.

“It's probably an old guardroom, there's another door at the end of it,” he said and tested the handle. The door was unlocked, though rusty and the hinges made such a noise Ashe was sure any spirit within the prison definitely heard it. It seemed heavy from the way Markus struggled to pull it open but knowing him Ashe knew it was probably just the weight of a moderately sized oak door.

She got confirmation of this after Kier had taken that task from Markus and opened the door fully. As she walked in after the rest of the group she discretely tried its weight. Not heavy but not extremely light either. She closed and bolted it behind her, trying not to wince as it creaked its way back into place.

“-devious end table,” she approached her friends in what appeared to be the middle of a discussion. Kier had just finished a sentence and was frowning down at an end table. Presumably the one that had just been labelled devious. Markus had his back turned to Kier, digging through a heap of scraps that might possibly once have been a bed.

“You know I don't really think it's fair to-” he turned around and glanced at the end table in question. Immediately his expression changed, mirroring the frown on Kier's face. “That is an evil end table,” he said. Ashe blinked.

“I hate to ask this but how exactly is a piece of furniture evil?” she crossed her arms and stared at them. Gregor perked up immediately.

“Say Ashe, have you ever heard of a thing called the Mimic?” he asked. She shook her head.

“No but I have a feeling I'm about to,” she smiled despite herself. Gregor grinned.

“Its a monster that disguises itself as something harmless, usually a chest, to lull its victims into a false sense of security so it can take them by surprise,” he explained. Then he looked over at the end table. “This isn't one, though,” he said with absolute certainty. Ashe glanced at the end table again.

“I suppose that's a relief,” she said. “So what makes this one evil then?” she looked back to Markus and Kier.

“Trust us,” Markus said with that signature tone of Markus Velafi Sincerity that she never knew if she should taker seriously or not. “This end table is probably plotting our downfall as we speak,” she sighed.

“Well then we should probably move on before it starts the great end table rebellion on us,” she said. Markus' eyes widened.

“Don't joke about that, Ashe,” he said. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “An end table rebellion could end life as we know it!” she was already at the other door.

“Do you see anything on the other side?” she asked. Markus straightened and walked over, peering out through a crack in the door.

“It seems like an empty corridor,” he said. “But I don't exactly have the best vantage point so don't take my word for it,” she nodded, frowning slightly but she opened the door anyway. Immediately she noticed the difference from the door on the other side of the room. This one made no noise and was so heavy she would have doubted it was actually made of wood if she couldn't clearly feel the texture under her hands.

Once she had successfully opened the door and her friends had moved through she let go of it slowly. This proved to be a good decision as even with her careful movements the door closed with a loud clang. She winced and looked around again before sighing because, of course, she couldn't see beyond the lantern's light.

“Markus?” she looked over at him.

“I think we're alone for n-” he was cut off by the sickening sound of flesh being torn followed by the clattering of metal on stone. Ashe whirled to see Gregor, eyes wide, clutching at his abdomen where, to her horror, the red of his clothing was being darkened by blood and the stain was growing far too quickly. She cursed and darted forwards but wasn't fast enough to stop his head from smacking against the stone wall as he fell.

Just when she had reached him the lantern rolled a little further and in an instant Markus was swallowed by the dark. Kier drew the gigantic sword from its sheath on his back and stepped backwards a bit to remain in the light. Ashe cursed again and turned away from where she had seen Markus last, focusing her attention on Gregor for now, steadfastly ignoring the sounds of a struggle just beyond the ring of light.

“Kier can you actually use that thing?” she asked.

“Kind of?” Kier's uncertainty was clearly audible. “I usually just sort of wave it around and try to look intimidating,” Ashe made a soft noise of acknowledgement.

“Gregor can you hear me?” she asked. The fighting man nodded.

“Yeah you're right there,” he said. She sighed in relief.

“That's good, OK that's good. Stay with me now,” she said as she pulled up his trailing red shirt and undid the bandages that were already present around his abdomen. A sickening crack sounded from not that far away followed by a pained groan that undoubtedly came from Markus. Ashe steeled herself to inspect the damage to Gregor and her jaw dropped. She started at the wound in horror and for a moment she didn't know if she should be impressed or seriously concerned. Concern won out along with the sickening feeling that came with the knowledge that she had never healed anything this bad before.

“How are you still conscious?” she asked in disbelief.

“I can't smell anything is that bad?” Gregor asked. She winced. Next to them Kier reached into the darkness and caught hold of something. Quickly he dragged an unconscious Markus back into the light. Ashe's eyes flickered briefly to them before going back to Gregor.

“If you count bad as 'I can't do anything about that' then yes,” she said. “This is going to hurt,” green energy sparked from her fingers and she stuck her hand into his wound. She knew she couldn't get the whole thing to close even for the limited time her healing lasted so she focused on making sure no internal damage remained and that he didn't bleed out. In the end she was forced to stop halfway and bandage the rest.

“That should hold you for now,” she said and hurried over to Markus. She'd used a lot of energy healing Gregor already and her mind was spinning with worst case scenarios. Markus could be too hurt for her to heal with the energy she had left, her healing on Gregor might not be enough, they would certainly get attacked again at some point. In that moment she felt sure she would lose one of them to this horrible place and it was a thought she couldn't bear.

She knelt next to Markus and looked him over. At first glance nothing seemed to be wrong with him, save for his unfocused eyes and a row of very faint marks, not even deep enough to break the skin, on either side of his throat. Ashe shuddered as she realized they were from teeth and Kier must have pulled him back out of the darkness just in the nick of time. Had he been even a second slower... Ashe resolved not to think about that. She focused on the fact that something must have hit him in the head she turned him gently to reveal the damage.

“Oh that's a lot of blood,” Kier said, an edge of panic in his voice. He was right, of course, and they way Markus' blond hair contrasted against the vivid red of the blood made it look still more alarming. Ashe, however, wasn't worried.

“No this is normal, head wounds bleed a lot because of how many blood vessels there are in the area,” she said. A wave of relief swept through her. This she could handle. True, Markus would likely take a while to wake up and might have a concussion but he would be fine. As long as they managed to get him out of the Prison of Lights. A quick spark of energy had the cut on the back of his head closed and the bleeding stopped. She sat back and looked over to Gregor, who was carefully testing his range of motion with his injury, not wanting to make it worse by way of a false move.

“Kier can you carry him?” Ashe asked, picking up Markus effortlessly and standing up. Kier sheathed his sword and coaxed the tabby that Ashe had privately named Orange out from under his cape.

“Yeah I can do that,” he said. After minimal manoeuvring Kier had Markus draped across his back and Orange had taken to hiding under Markus' cape instead. Ashe looked over to Gregor. He had picked up the lantern again and while he was a little too pale for her liking he did look better.

“Do you have any idea what it was that hit you?” she asked. Gregor began to shake his head but winced as a heavy wave of pain and dizziness swept over him with the motion.

“Oh fuck no,” Ashe walked over to him again and made him look at her. The slightly dazed look in his eyes confirmed what she'd been suspecting and she swore again. “Well at least you can stand,” she sighed.

“What's wrong with him?” Kier asked worriedly.

“From what I can tell probably a concussion,” Ashe sighed. Gregor grinned and settled his glaive more comfortably against his back.

“Don't worry I can still fight,” no doubt he tried to sound confident but his speech came out slow and a little slurred. Ashe glared at him.

“Oh no you don't,” she said and before he could protest she had attached herself to his side to act as a support and a guard. The urgency they had felt earlier, the want to get out of this ancient place with its oppressive darkness, was now doubled. Ashe was tense, her ears strained to hear anything that wasn't their footsteps on the stone.

The silence was probably more nerve wrecking than any scuttling beyond the light could have been. None of those who were awake spoke a word to each other, they just hurried as fast as they could through the various room and corridors of the Prison. This was probably what made the horrible, bone chilling scream of the old General all the more jarring. Far different was this sound from the one that had almost knocked them off their feet yet it undeniably came from the same mouth. That one had been painful, this one brought an absolute freezing terror with it.

They froze in place for a second and Ashe's eyes strained against the darkness. There was a deeper shadow among the shadows. Its body looked human but strangely elongated and thin. It moved across the floor on all fours, its arms in a weird position almost like its upper arms were sewed to its body. It took a few seconds for her to get her wits about her again but when she did the urgency of the situation was not lost on her. Neither was the fact that the General was currently blocking their way out.

“Run!” she called to Kier as she quickly moved to lift Gregor into her arms. Kier was quick to take her advice and together they ran. The loss of walls on either side of her made her feel open and vulnerable in a way she did not want to feel when she was heading, against all survival instinct she had, towards and ancient corrupted spirit. She also noticed the sudden openness above her as the ceiling of the hall was far, far higher than that of the corridors.

They reached the centre of the large room where the old General sat crouched and ready to spring. Ashe ran as far to the side of him as she could and Kier followed her lead. Still it wasn't entirely enough and as they came abreast with him he was for a moment revealed in all his bony, twisted horror. His face, pale as death, contrasted with the rest of his body, pitch black as the shadows he made his dwelling. She had been correct in her guess as well, his upper arms were sewed to his body. For what reason she did not know and there was no time to ponder it now.

It was a mere moment but the old General was clearly not happy about the light of Kyl'il's lantern in his halls. A roar of rage followed them, Ashe now behind Kier. A large wooden door suddenly appeared before them, illuminated by the lantern. Kier reached for it and managed to push it open just as the General drew close enough to reach for them. Ashe winced as long, sharp fingers dragged down her back but that was all they had time to do as she threw herself against the door and locked it.

Slowly she sank to the floor and let her heart calm its frantic beating. Once she had calmed down enough and the sounds of scratching and hammering at the door had vanished she became aware of the stinging pain in her back. Gregor had managed to somehow manoeuvre his way out of her vice like grip and was looking at her worriedly.

“How bad is it?” she asked, turning so Gregor and Kier could see her back. It didn't feel life threatening to her but she had a lot of chemicals running around her brain right now so she didn't want to trust herself too much especially with a wound she couldn't see.

“It's not,” Gregor sounded relieved. “They're shallow, barely even bleeding,” he grinned at her and she sighed in relief. Unfortunately since she couldn't see and would have a hard time reaching the scratches it would be a little tricky to heal them.

“I can treat them for you,” Gregor offered and she blinked.

“Yeah you've done a lot, like a real lot already,” Kier said. She gave them a thankful look and turned her back towards Gregor. She should perhaps not have been surprised at how quickly and with seaming ease Gregor dressed the cuts. A history of fighting was often closely linked with a knowledge of injuries and how to treat them. She wasn't surprised, however, that there were moments where his hands shook or he hesitated and he had to visibly get his concentration back.

“How are you feeling?” she asked as she stood, pulling her tunic back down over Gregor's handiwork.

“Sick,” Gregor answered honestly. She nodded thoughtfully as she picked up her short sword again.

“As soon as we find a good place to rest you're going to take it easy,” she said before turning to what could only really be the final door they had to go through. It was large, ornate and made of stone. From the other side it probably looked like nothing, just another part of a mountain or a large boulder.

“So if we go through this we'll be in the Faerie Realm?” Kier asked.

“Sure seems like it,” Gregor said. Ashe walked forwards and pushed at the door. It gave way with an almighty groan and they had to shut their eyes against the brightness of the sun beyond it.

***

“Are you sure about this?” Moren asked, staring at the vaguely ominous swirling blue gateway that Thog had put up in the Nine Shrine's bar.

“Doesn't really do me any good to go questioning it now that they've gone,” Thog replied and looked down at Charoth. The child was sleeping but somehow still managed to communicate how little he liked his current situation. Thog grimaced.

“Wow you were not kidding about the kid not liking you, huh,” Moren said. Thog glanced sideways at his friend.

“Can you think of any reason why he would?” he asked. “No really I'm curious,” Moren shrugged.

“Your winning personality?” he suggested. Thog somehow managed to look more unamused than he usually did.

“Ha ha,” he said dryly. Moren chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.

“Honestly I'm a little disappointed. I was hoping for more than a few hours here, for once,” he sighed. “It's like three years ago all over again I'm not going to live forever,” Thog twitched almost imperceptibly.

“Can we not have the mortality talk right now?” he asked. Moren leaned against the bar counter and stared up at Thog.

“Yeah you've got things to do. So do I if I ever want to get that shop in Xinkala up and running,” he ran a hand through his hair again. “It's always the worst possible time, isn't it?” he asked. Thog shrugged.

“I wouldn't say always we did manage to get in, what? Five days? At one point,” Moren sent him a pointed look.

“That was four years ago, thank you for proving my point,” he looked back at the gateway. “Now go,” he waved a hand in its direction. Thog looked at the swirling mass of blue magic in distaste and Moren chuckled.

“You have got to be the only Faerie in existence who hates magic,” he said.

“That probably has something to do with my father,” Thog replied easily. Moren nodded with mock sincerity.

“Seriously go. Just imagine how embarrassing it would be if the others get there first going through the Prison of Lights because you put off going through a gateway just because you don't like magic,” he laughed at Thog's sour expression. It wasn't all that different from his usual one but Moren could still see the subtle difference that told him Thog did not like that idea.

***

Walking through the gateway should have been easy, unpleasant but easy. Thog had never liked the tingling sensation that Faerie magic left on his skin but this was different. He had never had to struggle to take his next step but now it felt like he was walking against the tide of a great, roaring river. He glanced down at Charoth and was surprised for only a second to see the child was completely comfortable and still sleeping. Then it hit him.

“Leave it to her to make the barrier so tight it tries to keep _me_ out,” he growled and pushed on. It was almost a full fifteen minutes later when he emerged on the other side, feeling like he'd just completed the most rigorous workout of his life. He looked around and was relieved to see that at the very least he had arrived at his desired location. The gateway closed behind him leaving him at the base of an almost sheer cliff. The edge of the castle grounds and the Faerie Realm entrance to the Prison of Lights.

A figure that Thog immediately recognized was lying in the grass not far from his post. His helmet lay to the side leaving absolutely no doubt that he was very much asleep. Thog's eyes narrowed and he walked over, casting a shadow over the sleeper who groaned and mumbled something but didn't wake. So Thog kicked him in the side. If the sudden kick hadn't woken him the clanging sound of Thog's foot impacting his armour would have.

“Wha- Thog?” the sleeper peered up at him through a heavy fall of black hair. Then he seemed to properly wake up. “You're back!” he said happily. Then what he had just said seemed to dawn on him.

“Oh fuck you're back,” he groaned and shook his hair out of his face.

“Believe me I'm not fucking happy about this either Cyneweard,” Thog said. The royal guard stood, revealing himself to be about Thog's height but the familial similarities ended there. Thog was, for one, the only one of his siblings to have inherited their mother's eyes. He was also markedly the palest as the rest all shared the same soft brown tone to their skin.

“I've told you a million times to call me Ward,” Cyneweard complained. Thog raised an eyebrow.

“I'll call you Ward when you stop slacking off on the job,” he said for what felt like the millionth time. His brother, the first of the triplets, seemed to take him in properly now and his eyes, of course, landed on Charoth.

“Thog tell me you didn't...” he sounded vaguely horrified. “If mom didn't want to kill you before... oh man,” Thog looked from Charoth to Cyneweard and almost gagged.

“Definitely not,” he said. His brother breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good, that's good. Last thing we need is you coming home with an illegitimate heir. Especially while Cynbel's here-” he cut himself off and slapped a hand to his mouth. “I should not have said that,” he muttered. Thog groaned. It was really a very good thing that both Thog and Cynbel had reasons for staying away from home, for Cynbel it was his job as a bounty hunter, for Thog his dislike of the palace and the people there. Last time they had been in the same place at the same time the unfortunate palace training grounds had been caught in the crossfire and entirely flattened. Naturally because Thog was their mother's least favourite he had been the one to get into trouble even though Cynbel was the one who always insisted on the two of them fighting.

“Of fucking course,” Thog sighed and sat down, staring at the spot he knew to be the door to the Prison of Lights. Cyneweard followed his gaze and frowned.

“Why are you here, anyway?” he asked. Thog looked back to him.

“Because I have a plan that will make her Royal Majesty angry,” he spoke the Queen's title with a familiar sarcasm. Cyneweard rolled his eyes.

“Why else are you ever here?” he asked. “I meant _here_ here,” he gestured to the cliff.

“I'm expecting someone,” Thog replied. Cyneweard nodded before Thog's words seemed to reach him and he did a double take.

“Wait what?” he asked. “Thog what the fuck did you do?” Thog chose to ignore him in favour of preparing to wait for a long time only to have Ashe, Gregor and Kier carrying and unconscious Markus walk through the seemingly solid stone before promptly dropping down onto the grass in exhaustion.

“Never again,” Ashe muttered under her breath. Thog raised an eyebrow at the red patch in the tiefling's hair.

“Is he dead?” he asked. Ashe looked at him and shook her head.

“He's going to be fine,” she said. “Now give Charoth back,” she held out her arms and Thog more than happily handed the still sleeping child back. The instant he was back with his sister, however, he woke up. Thog tried not to take that as a personal insult.

***

A few moments of silence passed during which Kier gently laid Markus down on the soft grass, Gregor collapsed against the cool cliff side and Ashe just breathed. She looked down at Charoth, who was clinging to her tunic like he never wanted to let go and sighed. She felt the tension and fear of the Prison bleed out of her and she followed Gregor's example, collapsing against the cool stone of the cliff. Kier was sitting underneath a nearby tree with Orange in his lap.

“I repeat,” said an unfamiliar voice and Ashe noticed for the first time a Faerie clad in armour with some kind of insignia on his chest. The wings of a bird in flight set against the full moon. “What the fuck did you do?” she looked at Thog and he in turn looked at the unknown Faerie.

“Showed these people a way into the Realm,” he said. The other looked completely aghast.

“She called the kid Charoth right?” he asked. Thog raised an eyebrow.

“It isn't like you to get so invested in anything,” he said.

“Who is this guy?” Ashe asked, getting tired of waiting for Thog to introduce them. Thog looked at her but the stranger beat him to the punch.

“Forgive me, I am Cyneweard of the Royal Guard, though I would prefer you call me Ward,” the guard introduced himself with a bow. Thog looked surprised for a second but seemed to shake it off just as quickly. “I am also Thog's younger brother,” Ashe raised an eyebrow and looked from Ward to Thog taking in everything from Ward's warm, laughing eyes to his short nose and pointed face.

“Can't say I see the family resemblance,” she said. She didn't want to ask if Thog was adopted but it seemed, from what she had already heard about his family and the considerable lack of familial resemblance, that it was certainly a likely possibility. Ward laughed.

“Oh that would be because Thog here doesn't have the same dad as the rest of us,” he said. Thog glared.

“That's enough sharing,” he said. Ward looked at him again.

“Yes I was asking what the hell you're planning wasn't I?” he said.

“Why are you so fucking interested all of a sudden?” Thog asked, squinting suspiciously at his brother. “You're usually the last to get up and do anything,” he gave Ward a look that Ashe recognized and she had to stifle a laugh. Thog with the suspicious scowl of a parent trying to confirm what kind of mischief their child had gotten up to was kind of hilarious. It also confirmed that this must have been one of the four siblings Thog had taken care of long ago.

“Yeah you got me there,” Ward shrugged. “But you're my brother and this could get you into some serious trouble. You rely too much on your position protecting you,” he sighed. Thog raised an eyebrow.

“Unless one of you decided to step up while I was gone she can't touch me. I'm too valuable to her, whether she likes it or not,” he scowled. Ward raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.

“Fine, fine, whatever you say oh wisest of my elder brothers,” he resumed his lounging in the same spot where Thog had found him. Thog's scowl deepened.

“I'm your only older brother,” he pointed out. Ward just laughed.

“Do you get along this well with all your siblings?” Ashe asked. Thog just looked at her.

“Nah I'm special like that,” Ward grinned. Thog glared at him. “In all seriousness though Avila will be thrilled to see you,” Thog nodded. Ashe decided now wasn't the best time to get a crash course in Thog's various relatives and looked back to Markus.

“So do you have any kind of plan from here or what?” Thog asked. She glanced briefly at him and nodded.

“We were going to try to get into the Faerie Realm Archives but first Markus and Gregor need their rest,” she said. She looked over to Gregor beside her and found he was already sleeping.

“I still don't understand why the Queen didn't fucking close that thing,” Thog stared at the cliff side.

“You should know by now not to question her judgement, brother,” Ashe turned to the new voice and was greeted by a face so identical to Ward's that she had to check for a moment that she wasn't seeing double. The newcomer had one major difference from Ward, however, and it was an old scar at the corner of his mouth. His hair was shorter, too, cropped close to his head so there was less risk of it getting caught on something in the middle of a battle. He wore well worn and travel stained clothes with simple and light leather armour, clothes that would make it possible for him to move almost soundlessly. He carried a quiver on his back and a sword at his side and if Ashe had to hazard a guess she'd say he was a hunter of some kind. Probably a bounty hunter if the corner of a wanted poster peaking out of his bag was anything to go by.

“Hello Cynbel,” Thog sounded less than pleased to see him. Cynbel's eyes scanned the scene in front of him, fixing on Ashe and Charoth. His frown deepened but he kept his attention on Thog.

“I see you're still holding true to your father's legacy, what exactly are you planning this time?” the difference in how Cynbel and Ward approached their brother was night and day. Ashe frowned, wondering what the bounty hunter could have meant by Thog's father's legacy. It definitely didn't sound like something she and her friends were supposed to hear, though.

“We both know if I tell you you'll run straight back to the Queen. Nothing ever really changes with you,” Thog replied. Cynbel's nostrils flared and he crossed his arms. If looks could kill Thog would likely have been dead where he sat.

“At least I'm loyal to her! You won't even call her mother!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that happened. That's two of Thog's three brothers arrived and one sister mentioned.


	7. Chapter VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashe is done with politics and Markus has a freakishly good sense of smell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am absolutely spoiling you with the chapters right now that's three in one month holy crap.

The fact that Thog didn't seem affected by his words only made Cynbel's expression darken further. Had Ashe known Thog longer she may have picked up the subtle tension in his jaw or the way his eyes flashed but as it was these things went unnoticed. More immediate to her mind at the time was what Cynbel had just said. Call the Queen mother. Thog was a Prince of the Faeire Realm. It sounded completely ridiculous but it seemed to be the truth.

“Well she doesn't exactly like me, does she?” Thog seemed to have forgotten Ashe and Kier were there. Ward had sat up again and was looking worriedly at his brothers.

“That's because you can never take your duties seriously!” Cynbel spat. Thog's upper lip curled into a sneer.

“It's because of my father and you know it. Everyone fucking knows it. Don't try to make me feel fucking guilty about something I had no say in,” Ward quietly edged around the two until he got to Ashe.

“You might want to get out of here,” he said quietly. She frowned.

“Why?” she asked. He sighed.

“Last time they had this conversation the training grounds got flattened,” Ashe sent and alarmed look in Thog's direction. The Faerie Prince- she had to stop herself from laughing that was an utterly ridiculous title when she took into account everything that was Thog. Though she supposed a love of deals and contracts wasn't that out of place. Everything else, on the other hand, was. Thog's eyes were glowing with a pale blue light, his hand alarmingly close to his gun. Cynbel's hand was clenched around the hilt of his sword.

In that moment Ashe did a very foolish and very brave thing. She set Charoth down beside Kier and stepped between the feuding Princes of the Faerie Realm. Abruptly Cynbel stepped back, obviously shocked. Thog just stared at her, the ominous light in his eyes vanishing making him look, once again, like a completely normal human. Except now Ashe knew that not only was he a Faerie he was a royal one. She sighed.

“I don't know what's going on with you two but right now I don't have time to deal with politics,” behind her there was a sound of someone falling, definitely Ward by the clanking of armour followed by near hysterical laughter. Cynbel and Thog both turned to glare at their brother who was trying very hard to gain back his lost composure.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry but seriously the looks on your faces,” another peal of laughter. Cynbel raised an eyebrow.

“I'm glad someone is finding this amusing,” he said dryly. Ward took a deep breath and steadied himself.

“OK, I'm good, I'm good,” he said. Then he turned his eyes to Ashe. “I'm impressed, actually. You're the first person to ever just... do that,” he gestured vaguely to where she was standing, still between Cynbel and Thog. Cynbel looked at her again and nodded at her stiffly in the manner of a royal greeting someone of lesser rank. She did not curtsy.

“As you are Thog's guests it is my duty to welcome you to Northall Castle. No matter what issues I may have with your host,” with another nod in Kier's direction he turned and walked away, vanishing suddenly when he'd reached about ten paces.

“Well he's charming isn't he?” Markus' voice made her turn. The tiefling was halfway raised, steadying himself on his elbows. “What did I miss?” he asked, sending a pointed look in Thog's direction. Ashe walked over to him and sat down.

“How are you feeling?” she asked. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and winced.

“I have a really bad headache,” he said, reaching back to where the wound had been. He froze when his fingers touched the dried blood there. “That is going to be hell to wash out,” he grumbled. Ashe huffed a short laugh.

“In other words you're fine,” she walked over to Gregor and woke him up. The fighting man looked disoriented for a second before his eyes landed on Thog and further on Charoth who was playing with Orange. The cat seemed very content to curl up around him and let him pet her soft fur. Satisfied that everyone was aware enough that no endless repetition of the same information would need to happen Ashe turned to Thog and crossed her arms.

“OK spill,” she said. Thog leaned against the nearest tree and glanced up at the sky, trying to decide where to start. Ward looked up at his brother with a mischievous look but, to his immense disappointment, Thog noticed and stopped him before he could act on his ingenious plan.

“Yeah. My mother's the Faerie Queen,” he said before Ward could spring up and introduce him by his full title in his ridiculously pompous announcer voice. “I'm Prince Thog of the Faerie Realm,” he sighed. Ward grinned, seeing there was still a chance and pouncing on it.

“Oh don't sell yourself short, brother dearest,” he said in a sing-song voice. Thog shot him a warning look, which he completely ignored. “The man, or, well half man you see before you is none other than His Royal Highness Crown Prince Thog of the Faerie Realm, First Son of the Faerie Queen, Lord of the Shrouded Isles and Heir to the Throne of the Realm,” Thog looked like he would rather be anywhere else in the world. Ward, having completed his mischief, went back to lounging about.

“You're going to rule this place one day?” Markus asked, getting to his feet and dusting himself off as best he could. Thog shrugged.

“By law if there is a successor by blood they have to take the throne. So I've been first in line since I was born,” he shrugged.

“Didn't you mention something about the heir to the throne being unfit to rule or something?” Ashe fixed Thog with her sharp look and he groaned.

“They're going to find out anyway,” Ward pointed out from his position on the ground. “Might as well come from you. They're your friends, right?” Thog sent him and unamused look.

“If you ask the Queen yeah,” he said.

“Well what if we ask you?” Gregor asked. Thog looked at him and seemed to consider his words for a moment.

“Then I'd say she's letting her bitterness towards my father cloud her judgement. That and she's prejudiced as fuck and doesn't want to admit it's her own fault her heir is half human,” Markus immediately looked more attentive. He stared at Thog with a mixture of wonder and excitement. “What?” Thog raised an eyebrow, staring back.

“You're going to be the first half human to rule the Faerie Realm! This is, this is actual history in the making,” Ashe glanced worriedly at Markus. The tiefling looked a little unsteady on his feet. Then again she kind of understood how he felt, it wasn't every day you meet someone who was going to change the world just by being who he was.

“Oh, yeah. That,” Thog sounded positively bored.

“Yeah I suppose you wouldn't think it's such a big deal,” Markus observed. “I mean you've had... how old are you?” he squinted at Thog, who raised an eyebrow.

“No I know it's a big deal, trust me my tutors would not fucking stop talking about it. But when it's you they're talking about some of the wonder's kind of lost, and when you add three hundred and thirty one years of repetition it just gets monotonous after a while,” he shrugged. Ashe blinked.

“You look good for your age,” she said. Thog gave her a flat look.

“That's generally how near immortality works, Ashe,” he said. She sighed.

“No that's not what I- just forget it,” she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Anyway we need to find some place to sleep. We can't just camp out somewhere on the palace grounds that's way too conspicuous...”

“You could use the old gardener's shack. No one's been there in years,” Thog suggested. Ashe nodded.

“That sounds good. Where is it?” she asked. She resisted the urge to look around because quite frankly, she had no idea how big she should expect the palace grounds to be. Everything on Meathe, save for the trees, was so small when compared to even a little bit of everything she'd seen within the span of the twenty days since her departure. She glanced over to where the last edges of dusk were fading in the sky. It had been sunset when they arrived and now the stars were beginning to shine. If her calculations were correct the moon that was rising above the treetops would be full. The moon on the night of her departure from Meathe had been a waning crescent.

“This way,” Thog gestured at the group to follow him. Ashe quickly picked up Charoth and ended up picking up Orange as well as her brother seemed reluctant to let go of the cat. She smiled gently and hugged him just a little bit tighter, glad to have him back where she could see him and make sure he was all right.

***

Whatever she could have guessed about the distance would have been painfully off the mark. She remembered being able to walk from one village to the next in a few hours even through the dense forests of her home. It was midnight by the time they got to the gardener's shack in a field of wild flowers. Gregor and Charoth had fallen asleep long ago and Markus was lagging severely behind when Thog finally stopped and gestured to a very small somewhat run down building with climbing ivy covering its outer walls. Immediately Ashe opened the door and collapsed in the nearest corner, going to sleep before she had time to properly hit the floor.

Thog watched quietly as the group of four plus baby and cat settled, or rather fell haphazardly, into the shack. There was a sort of exhausted serenity about the scene. Kier had face planted onto the old rickety bed, Markus had curled up in the middle of the floor, Gregor had fallen asleep on the way there and was now acting as Kier's blanket. Ashe had just fallen into the closest available corner, still holding Charoth close to her chest. Only the cat remained awake, staring at him with curious, lamp-like eyes. Quietly he closed the door and turned away, hands stuffed in his pockets.

He looked up at the full moon and felt that familiar tug. Not at his heart exactly, more in the stomach region. Something ancient and wrapped in too much magic for his liking trying to spring free. He frowned and continued walking towards the castle. He could have opened a gateway but he usually only used those to get in or out of the Faerie Realm. He could also have flown but his back always hurt if he used his wings for any length of time. Downside of practically never flying, he supposed. As he continued his walk voices began murmuring from the shadows. Some like bells, some like the whispering of a soft wind on a cold winter night.

“The Prince, the Prince,” they whispered.

“The young Prince returns.”

“Will he dance? Will he sing?” Thog ignored them. He would definitely not do either of those things no matter how much the Queen harped on about tradition. He wasn't the type to go dancing in the moonlight and, really, his voice was not made for music. As if that thought had called on them to sing the voices within the shadows began a tune. He sped his walk, knowing all too well what these creatures were capable of. They could see into the hearts of humans and spirits alike and while no bribe nor any torture could make them reveal what they saw there they would gladly sing of their findings to the one the observations concerned.

 

 _Oh his mind is troubled_  
_His doubts are doubled_  
_What bothers our Prince  
_ _Our Prince tonight?_  

 _His mother is vengeful_  
_He has to be careful_  
_That bothers our Prince  
_ _Our Prince tonight._

 _The child is now sleeping_  
_And secrets are keeping_  
_What bothers our Prince  
_ _Our Prince tonight?_

 _The bound one has power_  
_'Tis time for her hour_  
_That bothers our Prince  
_ _Our Prince tonight._

 _The full moon is calling_  
_But he is still stalling_  
_What bothers our Prince  
_ _Our Prince tonight?_

 _He should be out dancing_  
_But time is advancing_  
_That bothers our Prince  
_ _Our Prince tonight._

 _His magic is stirring_  
_A dark shadow spurring_  
_That bothers our Prince  
_ _Our Prince tonight._

 _Oh where is he going?_  
_And what is he doing?_  
_What bothers our Prince  
_ _Our Prince tonight?_

 

Thog blinked as the darkness lifted and the Shadow Singers fled. The overwhelming brightness of light suddenly flooding out an open widow forced him to close his eyes for a second and shield them with his hand. The words of the Singers, however, stayed clear in his mind. Time is advancing. He sighed. Even with his long lifespan time never seemed to be on his side.

***

Markus woke the next day when a beam of sunlight managed to shine through the climbing ivy that was covering the window and right into his eyes. He groaned and rolled over but found sleeping in an odd angle on the floor had not been the best thing for his... anything really. All of his muscles were in knots and he had several splinters most of them in his face. He let out a pained groan and sat up, looking around. Gregor was sitting in the corner, looking tired, bored and a little anxious. Markus guessed that Ashe must have vetoed his usual morning exercise.

“Morning,” he said as he slowly worked out the worst cramps from his legs and arms. Gregor looked up at the sound of his voice.

“There's a stream behind the shack,” he said and, at least to Markus' ears, he sounded better than he had yesterday. He'd regained some of the colour in his cheeks too.

“Are you OK?” Markus asked. Gregor had never been this silent in all of Markus' time knowing him. He wasn't a blabbermouth exactly, it was more his presence. It was loud and bright and very, very alive. Now he seemed to have dimmed a bit and Markus could only hope it was the forced rest or the concussion.

“I think so?” the fighting man looked torn. “I feel heavy,” Markus nodded.

“It'll pass,” he said with more confidence than he really had and slipped out. The first thing he did was soak up the warmth of the sun, relishing the feel of it on his skin as he stretched. The stiffness of the night now almost gone he was about to move towards the stream when a soft singing caught his attention. He stopped and listened despite himself. He'd known somewhere in the back of his mind that Ashe could sing, she'd mentioned signing to Charoth once or twice and often when deep in thought she'd hum to herself. Now that he actually heard her voice, however, he was rooted to the ground. Ashe's voice in song was unguarded, like someone had opened the shutters to her heart for all to hear. They say eyes are the windows to the soul, Ashe's eyes gave nothing away. She was guarded and careful in every fibre of her being and so her song became the window her eyes were not permitted to be. Her voice now was quiet and sad and the word she sang were heavy with old fears.

 

 _Sometimes I can feel myself slipping away,_  
_And I sing to myself..._  
_Be true to the person you know you must be,_  
_Even if it all crumbles like cliffs to the sea._  
_Sometimes I don't know if what's left here is me..._  
_But there's comfort in knowing I'm free._

 

On the last words her voice wavered and she stopped, sighing softly to herself. Markus couldn't help but feel he had just overheard something he really wasn't supposed to.

Ashe leaned her head against the tree, watching the stream flow in its quick path and listening to the soothing sound of the water. Amid the chaos and fear of the Prison of Lights and the exhaustion that followed she hadn't had time to focus inwards at all. Which was bad now because the full brunt of the awful feeling she got whenever she used her power was now crashing onto her. Charoth whined softly and snuggled closer to her, trying to comfort her. She wondered sometimes if he on some level understood that he was the older sibling, if some of the weirder things he did were his attempt to be there for her like she was for him. She looked down at him, though she could not muster up a smile.

“Ashe?” Markus' voice made her jump. “How are you feeling?” she blinked, surprised he would ask. She hadn't been hurt that badly. When compared to him and especially Gregor she hadn't really been hurt at all.

“Fine,” she lied. He did not look convinced.

“You know I'm here for you right? And so are Gregor and Kier,” his voice was soft and sincere, truly sincere. A stark difference to the Markus who didn't stop to think before doing anything, or even the Markus who she talked about future plans and spirit law with. Nineteen days now, not long at all but she had already built a picture of him in her head. A picture he seemed all too fond of distorting, proving to her time and time again that she did not know him. Maybe she would never truly know him. She shook her head, trying to banish the dismal thoughts.

“I need to be alone right now,” she said quietly. He nodded and went back into the shack only to come back a few seconds later and set Orange down next to her. She looked up at him, considerably confused. “Markus, what-?”

“Animals can be really comforting,” he said simply, grinning at her before walking further downstream so he could wash himself without bothering her. She looked back down at the cat who was looking up at her curiously. She shifted Charoth so she could have one hand free and held her free hand out to Orange. Immediately the tabby rubbed her head against it and climbed onto Ashe's lap. Charoth squirmed a bit and she set him down on the grass beside her and handed his staff to him.

Orange took her momentary distraction as an opportunity to settle more comfortably in Ashe's lap and curl up. Ashe absent mindedly began petting the soft fur of the tabby, stopping only for a moment to wonder which of the guys took such good care of her even through the harrowing path they'd taken. It was probably Kier. A displeased nudge from the cat brought her back to the present and made her realize she'd stopped her movement.

“Sorry about that,” she said and in the calm of the morning she sounded awfully tired. It wasn't long before Orange started purring. Beside her Charoth giggled softly and dropped down from his sitting position to lean against her leg. The hand that wasn't currently scratching Orange behind the ears went to Charoth to hold him in a half hug. Sitting there with her brother safely at her side and a cat purring contentedly in her lap did wonders to calm her. Her eyes followed Markus as he walked up from downstream, wringing out the last of the water from his hair. The bloodstain on the back of his head was thankfully gone.

He must have felt her watching him because he stopped for a moment and smiled at her. She managed a small smile in return and his grew. When he'd turned away and gone back to the shack she went back to staring up at the leaves above her.

She had never seen a forest that was so purely green. No darkness lingered at its edges, the trees were all of the leafy green variety and the fact that summer was right around the corner was clear. Charoth looked up at her curiously and she turned her eyes to him.

“Yeah I'm feeling better,” she reassured him. He smiled and curled up against her leg again.

***

The next three days passed slowly. Ashe got back on her feet like she always did and continued on. Gregor was healing well and despite the brain being too delicate a thing for Ashe to heal he was getting over his concussion surprisingly quickly. He did, however, not regain his sense of smell. Ashe suspected he never would.

Thog came by every now and then to check on their progress. He also had a way for them to get what they needed out of the archives. While no one but the spirits in the Faerie Realm's legal department could legally take out any documents the archives were accessible to the librarians. One of which happened to be Thog's second youngest sister Ishild. All in all things were going well.

The morning of the fourth day was barely there when Ashe woke. A brief moment of panic seized her at the pain in her lower back and she counted the days from her departure from Meathe in her head. The she swore, quietly so as not to wake her sleeping friends and stole out of the shack. She could at least be thankful for her foresight in leaving Meathe when she did. A little later and this may have happened in the Prison of Lights which would have been a complete disaster.

The stream behind the shack turned out to be a blessing. Thankfully she had woken up before the blood made it to her trousers so the cleaning part of what she needed to do was minimal. After the rest was over and done with -for the next two or so hours- she heaved a massive sigh and prepared herself for five days of cramps and misery.

She stayed at the stream, staring up at the sky and trying to ignore her developing headache and the familiar but always unwelcome pain in her back. She was understandably surprised when Markus materialized at her side and dropped something in her lap before dissipating into a cloud of smoke and vanishing back to the shack. She looked down at her lap and found a box. With a sceptical eyebrow raised she unhooked the hook that kept the lid shut and opened it. Inside lay several small dark chocolate pralines. She blinked and turned quickly to stare at the shack.

Her first thought was not about herself but rather about the, honestly, very fancy pralines. More specifically where the hell he got them or if he'd just happened to have them where the hell he was storing them for them to have stayed so whole and not melted at all. Either way she strongly suspected magic of some kind was involved. When that thought had safely passed through her head, however, she groaned and flopped down onto the grass. How the fuck did he know? This was undoubtedly him trying to help in whatever way he could but how the ever living fuck did he find out?

“Gregor!” she called when she spotted she fighting man approaching the stream. He looked up at her curiously. “Could you get Markus?”

“Can't you get him yourself?” he asked. From anyone else this would have sounded contradictory and rude but she knew Gregor well enough to know he was legitimately curious. She sighed.

“I suppose you're right,” she admitted with some reluctance. Her back was killing her but she knew, no matter how much she didn't like it, that moving helped with that. She got up, taking the praline box with her and walked over to the shack.

“Markus?” she looked in but found he wasn't there. No one was there actually, save for Orange who had curled up in the small patch of sunshine the vines allowed. Ashe frowned and walked around to the side of the house where she found Kier staring at the ivy covered window. “Hey do you know where I can find Markus?” she asked. He turned to her and nodded.

“Yeah, he was heading upstream,” he said, pointing in the direction Markus had presumably gone. She thanked him and headed up the stream until she found Markus carefully tuning a guitar she hadn't known he owned with Charoth sat at his side.

“Markus,” she said, he looked up at her. There was an uncertainty behind his easy smile.

“Hi Ashe,” he greeted her. She sat down next to him and looked at him for a while.

“How did you know?” she asked. He looked back to his guitar and continued his task.

“I can smell blood though the walls of a house when I'm standing ten meters from it,” he said and left it at that. She nodded thoughtfully and opened the box again.

“Why dark chocolate?” she asked. He looked over to her again.

“It's supposed to be the best, isn't it?” he shrugged. She smiled.

“Thanks,” she started to move like she was going to leave when Markus spoke up again.

“You don't have to leave for my sake,” he said. She looked back at him, then at Charoth and settled back down without a word.

They spent the rest of the morning like that. Ashe rested beside Markus, ducking out occasionally but always coming back. They didn't talk much but Markus sang a lot. Charoth absolutely adored that. One song she recognized, that being the Ballad of Markus Velafi, having heard some of it on the ship that took them to the Shrouded Isles. That night felt like months ago now despite being only about two weeks ago. The rest she was unfamiliar with. Some were clearly folk songs from various corners of the world, some might have been of his own creation. Some weren't in the common tongue and one or two were in languages she was certain hadn't been spoken in centuries. He had to stop after a while to spare his voice and they continued on in a comfortable silence.

“How long until Gregor's healed?” Markus' voice finally broke the silence as they walked back towards the shack to begin preparations for lunch. Of course they never ate any food that originated in the Faerie Realm. Their continued supply of food from outside was largely thanks to Thog. Ashe shrugged.

“Honestly he's recovering faster than I thought he would so I don't know,” she settled Charoth more comfortably in her arms and took a moment to think. “I give him one more day of moderate rest before I'd have to knock him out personally to keep him in bed, though,” Markus laughed.

***

They were halfway through lunch when they were interrupted by a knock at the door. Markus got up quickly and opened it to reveal Thog. Not really a surprise, he was the only one save for Ward who knew they were there and the only one who was likely to come anywhere near the place. The old shack was at the very edge of the castle grounds and from what Thog said no one had lived there or tended the flower field around it since he was a child.

“I got you rooms in the castle,” he said, skipping through greetings and getting right to the point.

“What about the Queen?” Gregor asked.

“She knows you're in the Realm thanks to Cynbel but she thinks you're not on the castle grounds any more,” he replied. “Four days from now she'll be holding her monthly complaints day or whatever the fuck it's called. That's your best bet,” Markus nodded thoughtfully.

“I agree, if we make a public deal out of it that we're here, especially on a day when both courtiers and commoners are going to be present, she's going to have to listen to you,” he smiled at Ashe who looked down into her soup bowl. Now that is came down to it, now that she had a deadline, she suddenly found herself wondering what exactly she would say, how on earth she could go up against the Queen of the Faeries with any hope of winning.

“The archives?” she asked, suddenly looking up at Thog again.

“I got the documents you need,” he answered and suddenly they noticed he was carrying a leather binder under one arm.

“Was that always there?” Kier asked, voicing everyone's question. Thog just raised an eyebrow and Markus seemed to realize something.

“You never used a glamour, did you?” he asked. Thog shook his head.

“Took you long enough to figure out,” he said. Markus looked mildly offended.

“That's brilliant, though,” he said, real admiration in his voice. Ashe looked curiously at him.

“What's brilliant?” she asked.

“I used misdirection to make sure all anyone ever saw of me was my human half but that's not what we're here to talk about,” Thog said, holding out the folder. Ashe took it quickly and opened it. Inside was a thick stack of papers. Quickly Markus shifted over so he could read over her shoulder as she skimmed through the miles and miles of fine print, technicalities and legalise. Honestly it was enough to make her head spin and more, how Markus made any kind of sense of it she had no idea.

“Yes this is exactly what we need. Ashe?” Markus held out his hands and she handed the paperwork over to him without protest and went back to her lunch. Beside her Markus took a pair of glasses out of his pack and began carefully reading through everything the documents would tell him about Charoth's situation. Almost immediately his eyes landed on a paragraph about Ashe's mother and he stopped.

“Something wrong?” Thog asked, seeing his hesitation. Markus looked from the document to Ashe. She put her spoon down and turned to him with a questioning look on her face.

“Your mother bet her life on that she couldn't have a child?” he asked. For a split second Ashe froze, then she set her lunch aside and sighed.

“Yeah,” she said. “I really don't know anything else about her. Dad didn't talk about her. Didn't talk about much other than my powers and the fact that I'd die alone,” she leaned her back against the wall and shrugged.

“Well he sounds unpleasant,” Kier said, frowning. Ashe laughed.

“Yeah he's not winning any father of the year awards that's for sure,” she said. Markus nodded thoughtfully and went back to reading the documents Thog had brought. About halfway through the stopped and swore.

“Found it,” he sighed.

“What?” Ashe asked.

“Your mother's wording,” Markus said, moving so Ashe could see what he was reading and pointing at the line in question. “'I want a _baby_ _'_. A baby was all she asked for and the Queen delivered,” Markus set the documents aside for a bit so he could think.

“When is comes to Faeries and deals choosing the wrong words can really screw you over,” Thog agreed. Ashe frowned, staring at the paragraph in question.

“So if everything the Queen did was legal what do we do now?” she asked.

“There's only one thing you _can_ do,” Markus said.

“A trade,” Thog looked considerably displeased. Markus nodded.

“Your only hope now is for you to offer the Queen something so valuable she'd be willing to trade Charoth's time for it,” Markus looked worried. “This could get ugly. The Faerie Queen isn't exactly know for being kind and gentle,” his eyes flickered to Thog, who crossed his arms.

“You don't have to tell me,” he said. Ashe bit her lip, still staring intently at the documents in front of her.

“I'm getting Charoth's time back,” she said. Her voice was quiet but steady and determined. Had she been looking at them she would have noticed Thog's lips twitch up into a small smile and Markus' eyes fill with respect and admiration. As it was she was more concerned with Charoth, who was tugging at her tunic to get her attention. He was staring at Thog and shifting uncomfortably. She sighed and picked up her brother to comfort him. She knew why he disliked Thog so much now. The similarities between Thog's presence and the Queens were strong enough for Charoth to get significantly uncomfortable.

“One last thing,” Markus said, looking to the documents. “There's a part here way in the back about you,” Ashe's eyes snapped up to Markus.

“What does it say?” she asked carefully.

“I haven't read it. Unless you think there might be information we need in it I'm not going to,” he said. Ashe tilted her head back a bit and exhaled. She wasn't sure what those papers would reveal, if they had the answers to her questions or if they were just full of more of them.

“Give it to me,” she said. Markus nodded and handed one of the papers over to her. She read it through and sighed, a little disappointed. All it said was what she already knew, at her birth an ancient power had been bound to her and it was on her whether she could control it or not. She didn't know if her current mastery of the forces within her counted as true control, though she doubted it. She really doubted true control would come with that utterly horrible feeling of being torn apart bit by bit. “There's nothing here that I don't know,” she said and handed the paper back to Markus, who set it back in its place among the others.

“So are we going to the castle now?” Gregor asked. Thog nodded.

“I'm either going to have to sneak you in through the underground tunnels or I can open a gateway,” he said. “I'd prefer the tunnels but it's up to you at this point,” Ashe looked at Gregor, Kier and Markus in turn, trying to get a read on their opinions.

“The gateway seems less conspicuous,” she said. Thog nodded reluctantly.

“Gateways are common, no one's going to notice one open,” he said. “OK stand back,” Ashe was already sitting against the far wall and so was Markus. Kier and Gregor now shuffled round until Thog was standing alone on one side of the shack.

He turned his back towards the others so he was facing the wall and placed the palm of his hand against it. Ashe's vision seemed to distort for a moment and she blinked, trying to get it back. When she opened her eyes again her mouth dropped open. Thog still stood where he had been standing before but now he looked anything other than normal. His eyes were once again glowing with a soft blue light, a blue light that snaked down his arm and was spreading over the wall. Moreover on his back she could see the faint outline a great black, feathered wings. They were so large that they almost touched the floor and they seemed to be fading in and out of existence, never truly becoming visible to her eyes.

The image was gone almost as soon as she saw it but she had definitely seen it and would not be forgetting it any time soon. The blue light was now seeping into the wall, taking root and deepening until a swirling blue gateway stood open before them.

“Come on,” Thog said. No trace of the glowing eyes of the large wings was left. Ashe stood up and walked forwards. Carefully she reached one hand into the gateway. Immediately her entire body seemed to warm up. She took a step forward and was through the gateway standing in a large stone room before she knew it. The tingling on her skin, however, remained with her.

Seconds later Markus, Gregor and Kier with Orange on his shoulder had stepped through. Thog took a few seconds longer and when he did appear in the room it was with a shiver and a look of distaste on his face. The gateway closed behind him and he leaned against the wall.

Ashe took that moment to look around the room. It was large and almost completely empty save for a dresser and a canopy bed. On one side was a window so large the could definitely sit comfortably on the window sill. Near the bed she spotted a baby's cot, clearly meant for Charoth and when she turned she noted a small table and an easy chair near the door. Well, the door to the hallway of the castle. There was another one to one side of the canopy bed.

“That door?” she gestured to it.

“Markus' room,” Thog replied walking over to it and opening it. The room beyond was almost identical to Ashe's except this one had a fireplace, no baby cot and another door straight across from the one they were looking through.

“I'm guessing Gregor or Kier?” she said. Thog nodded.

“Gregor, beyond that one is Kier,” he confirmed. “I'm up the spiral staircase at the end of the hall,” with that he pulled open the door to said hall and left them alone to get acquainted with their surroundings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I projecting onto Ashe? Yes. Yes I'm projecting onto Ashe. Also if you're wondering about Markus' reason for making Ashe aware of his freaking bloodhound nose it's because he didn't think it would be fair to her not to know that he knows.
> 
> Also certain characters seem to be acting a little bit married.


	8. Chapter VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thog's youngest sister is an absent minded little shit, Charoth learns that maybe Thog isn't the devil in disguise and I decide that since Inien's introduction has been pushed up due to plot edits I have to at least find a way to mention her dammit. Also Gregor may or may not be missing his boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I re-wrote this chapter at least eight times. Eight. Times. The original had Ashe meeting the Faerie Queen. And Zalvetta it had Zalvetta too. Shit happened and I wasn't happy so now I'm doing something different.

Ashe's mind was a hectic place for the next two days. When she wasn't stressing about meeting the Queen she was being miserable, when she wasn't being miserable she was planning and re-planning and re-re-planning. When she wasn't doing _that_ she was bored out of her skull thanks to having to hide away in Thog's wing of the castle. Couple that up with too little sleep even for her and no rest even then thanks to very vivid and very strange dreams and the result was far from helpful in her current situation. That is to say a situation where she had to be creative.

“There has to be something,” Thog stopped his pacing back and forth to look back at Ashe. She shrugged helplessly from her position in Markus' easy chair.

“If I had an idea I would have told you,” she sighed. This same exchange had been going on for the past two days and their deadline was drawing ever closer. Still the fact remained that Ashe had no idea what she had that she could possibly offer the Queen of the Faeries. Her life and her freedom were pretty much the only things she had and they were both things she would not part with, not even for Charoth.

“Do we have a plan C?” Kier asked. Thog stopped his pacing and sighed, running a hand through his hair in a distinctly Moren-like fashion.

“If there was maybe another way-” Gregor began to speak but was cut short by Thog suddenly swearing. Gregor frowned and Markus tried, and failed, to mask a chuckle as a cough.

“I need to check something,” Thog said before practically bolting out of the room leaving four considerably confused people behind. Ashe just stared at the closed door for a while before shaking her head.

“Does anyone know what just happened?” she asked, looking around the room at her companions. Markus shrugged helplessly and Gregor shook his head. Kier was a little preoccupied by Orange suddenly placing herself in front of him and beginning to meow in that way that decisively told everyone it was time for her lunch.

Ashe decided that, since there was obviously a lull in the planning, she could probably get away with taking a nap. She just needed to recharge somewhat, if Thog decided to return soon it would be better to have a working brain. She was almost out of Markus' room when the aforementioned tiefling spoke up.

“Are you leaving Charoth here on purpose?” he asked. She turned and swore quietly under her breath. Markus sat in the window with Charoth in his lap, the child seemed very happy with his current position as it offered both a comfortable person to snuggle up to and easy access to Markus' hair. Ashe bit her lip, thinking it over for a moment before her shoulders slumped.

“Can you take care of him for fifteen minutes?” she asked. She was rather sure she didn't let her exhaustion show but Markus somehow seemed to know about it anyway.

“He's no trouble,” of course Markus was lying through his teeth. Charoth could be more than enough trouble when he wanted to be -not that he often did but still- but Ashe decided to ignore this fact in favour of her bed and the sleep she so desperately needed.

***

Thog wasn't used to being out of his depth. He hadn't been out of his depth since Moren first crashed into his life. Which, granted, wasn't a very long time ago compared to three centuries but still. He'd been in trouble, yes. As recently as two years ago with the Meadshire Incident but he hadn't been truly out of his depth in a long while. So perhaps it was to be expected that he wasn't looking where he was going and ended up crashing into someone and having to grab on to a nearby pillar to prevent himself from falling.

He was about to slip into the mask of the Crown Prince when he actually looked at who he'd crashed into then. A young girl, or so she looked, sat on the floor blinking up at him in confusion. Her black hair was, for once, not obscuring her face which made it very easy to see the resemblance she bore to his siblings, for indeed she was one of them. The youngest princess, Avila, Craftswoman of Northall. She was the one of his siblings who resembled him the most and even then only in the shape of the ears and eyes, though the colour was all wrong.

He knelt down beside her and picked up one of the small statues she'd been carrying. It was of him. As soon as he looked at it he almost dropped it because, honestly, he'd completely forgotten how creepily life like her works always were, be they of metal, stone or wood.

“Oh! I'm sorry I- Thog?” she abruptly snapped out of whatever internal world she had been wandering in before they crashed into each other. “Right Ward said you were back...” she got up and dusted herself off. He noted absently that the swirling silver tattoos of curling vines and leaves had crawled further down her arms since he'd seen her last, now ending about halfway down her forearms.

“Yeah I didn't come by your workshop yet,” he said, handing her the wooden carving of himself. She took it and studied it with a kind of absent look. He coughed, drawing her attention back to him. “Are you, er... OK?” he asked, looking down. She followed his gaze to the various small statues scattered round her feet. Some were of people Thog recognized -he frowned at the appearance of a tiny stone Xin-, some weren't of people at all but of trees or flowers with stems and branches so thin they had to be held together by magic. She usually didn't carry this many with her unless she was particularly distracted.

“Mother's been a pain. She thinks I know what you're doing,” Avila sighed and bent down to collect the fallen statues. “Speaking of which how's Moren?” Thog almost choked and tried very hard not to send her his most chilling glare. He resisted the urge to correct her because of course she knew very well he and Moren had broken up three years ago. That didn't stop her from relentlessly teasing him, though. He hesitated to call her worse than Inien but she did manage to push it sometimes.

“He's fine,” Thog said, letting only a touch of regret seep into his voice. Avila, however, caught on instantly. Then again he probably should have expected as much given that he had practically raised her.

“Did you have another fight?” she asked. Thog frowned.

“No,” he said. It was technically true. They hadn't had the time to actually being arguing. Avila raised an eyebrow.

“Ri-ight,” she said, elongating the I to accentuate just how much she didn't believe him. “Seriously you should talk about whatever it is that's bothering him. Amicable exes are hard to come by, amicable exes who are also your best friends are once in a lifetime. Even with your lifespan,” Thog resisted the urge to just fly away. Avila may have been his favourite sibling but she had moments where she was far too perceptive for his liking.

“How is this any of your business?” Thog asked. It was a rhetorical question but, of course, Avila didn't take it as such.

“Because you're my brother and I love you,” she said bluntly. That was usually Thog's cue to leave. Emotions had never been his strong suit. Avila sighed as he walked past her, hands shoved into his pockets. She turned with the full intention of following him.

“I'm going to the library you don't have to fucking tail me,” Thog said. Avila shrugged.

“I just happen to be headed in the same direction,” she said. Thog shot her a flat look but chose not to answer.

***

Ashe felt rested for the first time in three days. After her nap and, for once, a good nights sleep, she felt like her brain was finally functioning again. Charoth was playing with Orange on her bed. She was sitting as the desk she had managed to get Thog to get her, Markus took the easy chair, Kier was in his own room and, according to Markus, he was very close to perfecting some new invention. Gregor sat in her window.

His behaviour had been somewhat off all morning. He'd been distant and distracted. He was seemingly captivated by the grounds outside their windows. That or he was staring wistfully out at the sky, currently a dull grey that spoke of rain to come. Markus had tried, and failed, not to react when Gregor started humming. Ashe, of course, saw nothing strange about this but Markus seemed to see something more to Gregor's behaviour than she did. It didn't exactly surprise her, they two had known each other longer than she had known either of them. There were bound to be things the two knew about each other that she had yet to discover.

Some things had, however, been revealed on their first night in the castle. In light of more of her own past coming to light the others had felt it only fair they share some of their own. Thog had probably revealed the least, but they already knew a lot about him and could easily fill in the blanks without him spelling it out for them. Save for his time in Alaran which he did not deliberate on. The only thing about that he would tell was that apparently he and Moren had been a couple for a time. Kier had talked about his father, about the Shrouded Isles when some remnants of the old Grius were left. How his father died when he was eleven and he knew nothing about his mother, he didn't even know if she was alive or dead.

Gregor's story had explained everything. The night terrors, the way he would occasionally blank if he looked too far back, even his determinedness to help people. The tale was far more grim than Ashe had truly expected but it hadn't really surprised her. She herself had elaborated a bit further on her own past, her position as Guardian of Meathe and how the other Meatheans hadn't allowed her to be her own person. How they'd viewed her as perfect, an almost godlike creature, yet they had tried to control her.

The greatest surprise of the evening had come from Markus. Formerly a servant to the royal family of the Kingdom of Tannhauser who had, upon finding out he had been living a lie his entire life, left to make his own way in the world. She wasn't entirely sure how much truth there was to his story but the servant part she had decided to trust at least. She somehow doubted Markus would present himself as from a long line of servants if he was lying.

This sign of trust and bonding had, perhaps, surprised her a bit but she was touched. She wasn't going to deny that her friend's voluntarily telling her their stories, or what they were willing to reveal of their stories, was something that relieved her. She saw it as an indication to that she didn't have to tell them anything but if she wanted to they would listen. She had also never been fond of secrets coming to light through accidents or something from the past showing up to haunt someone, whether in fiction or reality. Secrets were secrets for a reason, true sometimes it was a pointless reason but the keeper of those secrets never felt like it.

“Is that... is that Gregorsong he's humming?” Ashe asked quietly, leaning a little towards Markus so he could hear her better. Markus seemed to snap out of some very involved train of thought and began laughing. Gregor either ignored him or was too deep in whatever this was actually care. “What?” Ashe asked, giving Markus a half offended look.

“I'm sorry but that is so wrong,” Markus wheezed out between laughs. Ashe glared at him. He took a couple deep breaths to calm himself and sat back, looking over to Gregor. “No that's something I whipped up for a friend of his,” he grew thoughtful again. Ashe raised an eyebrow.

“OK now you've got me curious what does Gregorsong actually sound like?” she asked. Markus shrugged and pulled out his guitar, beginning the play a tune. It seemed somehow more upbeat than the tune Gregor was still humming, though whether that was the actual nature of the two songs or a result of Gregor's peculiar mood she couldn't tell.

“What Gregor is humming,” Markus said as he played the last notes of Gregorsong, “is called Heart of Soot.” Ashe blinked and sat up a little straighter. She had to admit she found it curious that someone who would warrant such a title would be Gregor's friend.

She had precious little time to contemplate this mystery, however, as that was the moment someone chose to knock on the door. Ashe glanced sideways at Markus and Gregor, placing a cautionary hand on her short sword. That was not Thog's knock. Slowly she cracked open the door and peered out at someone who could only be one of Thog's sisters. She came to this conclusion because of the stranger's resemblance to Thog, Cynbel and Ward. She also felt safe assuming this wasn't Eoforwine, the last of the triplets, as he would have looked exactly like Cynbel and Ward.

“Is... is Ashe here?” the girl asked in a timid voice. Her hair slipped back over her face, half obscuring it from sight. Ashe noted the silver tattoos and the multiple small statues in the girl's arms.

“Who's asking?” she asked. The girl straightened, seeming suddenly to gain more of a presence.

“Avila, Fourth Daughter of the Queen and Craftswoman of Northall,” she said and there was a definite air of pride in her voice. Ashe raised an eyebrow, Avila looked down awkwardly and coughed. “No my mother doesn't know you're here... as far as I'm aware... Thog sent me. Well I mean he didn't really I insisted that he rest he spent all night in the library looking for something which I guess he found since I have this book for you and dammit can you just let me in?” Avila had to draw a deep breath, having spoken too quickly to really breathe in during all of her last sentence. Ashe slowly opened the door and she slipped in, dropping a heavy and dusty tome into Ashe's hands as she passed. Ashe coughed as a cloud of said dust flew up into the air.

“What-” she coughed, “is this?” she asked, holding the book at arms length to scrutinize it.

“Oh Gods you have lungs,” Avila said, sounding panicked and apologetic. “I mean of course you do we all do I just mean- I don't know what I mean I'm so sorry,” she snapped her fingers to conjure a strong wind, effectively blowing the dust away. Ashe, Markus and Gregor stared at her. Even Orange stopped grooming herself to study this curious intruder. Charoth hid his face in Orange's fur, sensing the similarities between Avila and the Queen, just like he did with Thog.

“Thank you?” Ashe said hesitantly, looking down at the book and finding the words _1001 Magical Wonders of the Known Universe_ stamped in curling gold letters on the cover. She frowned curiously and cracked it open to the marked page, finding herself on a chapter on something called the Cavern of Time. Markus walked over to her so he could read over her shoulder.

 

> _The Cavern of Time, located in a pocket dimension, is one of the most illusive Magical Wonders of the Known Universe. The entrance to the cavern travels across the Faerie Realm and while many scholars have tried it is impossible to predict where it will show up next or how long it will stay. The few people who had successfully found the cavern have reported that it is filled with all forms of lost, stolen forgotten and wasted time. The physical descriptions of the cavern vary. It seems that no two people have ever seen it the exact same way._

 

Markus had taken one look at the title of the chapter and sighed. Ashe, having read enough to get the picture closed the book and looked over at him.

“There's a bit of a problem here,” Markus said, sitting back down in the easy chair and looking at Avila. Ashe assumed he was going to point out that the Cavern moved unpredictably and the chance of them finding it was infinitesimal. “We don't have the map.” She frowned and opened the book again, scanning through the relevant chapter until she found what he was talking about. A map tied to the magic of the Cavern that showed where the entrance was at the time and how long it was going to be there. Avila winced.

“Yeah I thought you might say that...” she sighed. Markus sat up straighter and stared at her.

“You know there the map to the Cavern of Time is?” he asked. Avila nodded.

“You're not going to like it, though,” she said. Ashe groaned, falling back into her seat at her desk. She had a guess where this was going and Avila was right.

“I'm guessing the Queen has it,” Gregor spoke up. Avila nodded.

“It's in the royal treasury,” she said reluctantly. Markus got to his feet again and smiled his most charming smile.

“Thank you for the update, your Highness,” he said with a bow. “We'll discuss further plans with Thog, if you don't mind,” she nodded and slipped back out quietly leaving the group to wonder about the future.

***

It was evening by the time Thog got back to them. They had just finished their supper and had gathered in Markus' room to catch Kier up on what he'd missed when Thog knocked on the door. He looked tired but he also had a wicked fire in his eyes. It seemed to Ashe that the idea of snatching a family heirloom from his mother's treasury pleased him to no end.

“Want to tell us how exactly you think we're going to manage getting into the royal treasury?” Ashe asked, crossing her arms and giving Thog an unimpressed look.

“ _We_ 're not, _you_ are,” he replied. “And that's a singular you, in case you were wondering,” Ashe narrowed her eyes.

“What?” she asked in a blank tone of voice.

“I second that. Thog what the fuck?” Markus said from his place in the easy chair. Thog rolled his eyes.

“I thought you knew me well enough to know this isn't a trap by now,” he said. Markus made and uncertain noise and wave his hand vaguely in the air. Thog glared at him. “It's either this or make a deal with the Queen,” he pointed out. Ashe sighed.

“Fine, what's your plan?” she asked.

They stayed up far into the night, until the rain had finally exhausted itself and the clouds parted the reveal the moon in its last quarter. Which was good for them as they would need to wait for the night of the new moon, but as the moon was currently waning it wouldn't be too long of a wait. Just a week. Ashe wasn't looking forwards to that at all.

Thog's plan, as it turned out, was actually good. The night of the new moon was a night when the Faeries rested, a monthly holiday of sorts. Because so many of the Faerie Realm guards were of the fair folk themselves the night watch was lax and it would be easier to get into the treasury on such a night than any other. Still very, very hard, just not completely impossible. No magic could be used anywhere around the door to the treasury, lest the alarms go off. Despite what Thog had said earlier Ashe would actually be getting help from Kier, Markus and Gregor in the form of lookouts. Thog himself would, much as he didn't like it, talk to the Queen. Since he rarely did so of his own free will it would be a sufficient distraction so she wouldn't decide to spend her free night in her treasury, something she was unfortunately known to do.

Ashe leaned back, looking over her companions. Markus had left the room for a moment to put Charoth to bed, Gregor was staring at his lap, no doubt going over the plan in his head again and Kier looked worried. Thog looked annoyed but that was probably because of Orange, who had decided his shoulders looked too cat-free for her liking. He had of course tried to shoo her away at first but at this point he had accepted his fate. Ashe took a moment to wonder just how different the past month would have been if she had missed Markus and Gregor on her first night in Alaran. If she had arrived a day earlier or later. Theirs was, after all, a chance meeting. Would she ever have met Kier or Thog? Would she still be in Alaran, wondering what to do next?

“Ashe?” Markus' voice snapped her back to the present as he re-entered his own room. She looked up at him. “You OK? You look kind of tired,” he observed. She shrugged and got to her feet.

“I'm fine,” she said. “But you have a point. It's late and we should all get to bed,” she looked around the room at everyone. Gregor nodded, still deep in thought and rose, exiting to his own room without a word. Kier got up next, prompting Orange to raise her head and hop off Thog's shoulders to follow the engineer to his room.

“While I appreciate that you're including me in your group I, unfortunately, have to attend the evening court,” Thog got up, dusting the cat hair off his shoulders. Ashe frowned.

“Thog there are more dark circles under your eyes than usual and I'm pretty sure your glamour or misdirection or whatever you use on your wings is dropping because the air behind you is shimmering,” she said in a very final tone of voice.

“You know she's right that is a very distinct shimmer you've got going on there,” Markus said.

“Fuck,” Thog reached to his back, encountering that familiar tingle of magic that told him that yes his wings were indeed fazing back into existence. Ashe gave him a look that screamed 'I told you so' which he returned with a flat stare before turning and exiting the room. Ashe kind of wanted to peak out to check if he'd gone up towards the spiral staircase or down towards the rest of the castle but she resisted the urge. Her hand was on the doorknob of the door to her own room before she stopped and turned.

“Goodnight Markus,” she said before opening the door and slipping into her own room.

“Sweet dreams,” Markus' voice echoed from behind the door and she smiled to herself.

***

When Ashe woke the next morning, the morning of the first of May the first thing she noted was that she'd forgotten to close her curtains last night, resulting in her morning from the first moment being bathed in the soft light of dawn. The wind brought with it a promise of a beautiful day, which only served to irk her as she would be stuck in the castle and unable to fully enjoy it.

The significance of the date only fully sunk in once more than half the day had gone by. She was sitting in the window reading a book she'd borrowed from Thog when the realization hit. It was with a surprising lurch that she realized that not only had her birthday gone by without her realizing it her entire birth _month_ had come and gone before she could register it. Her first birthday outside of the confines of Meathe and she hadn't even paused for a second to notice it.

Kier and Markus stopped their animated discussion about some new experiment they had to try as soon as they could to look over at her when she laughed. It was both relieved and a little hysterical. It felt so, so good to know she could just miss her own birthday like that. No spectacular gifts, no pomp and circumstance, no father trying his best to hide how much he hated celebrating that day. The anniversary of his wife's death. That was all it had ever really been to him. Even when she was a little girl, before she became the Guardian it had never been her birthday. It had always been the anniversary of her mother's death.

“What's wrong?” Markus asked.

“My birthday. It was in April,” she said, her book lay momentarily forgotten in her lap. “I can't believe I just forgot it like that,” she stared out the window. She felt light, giddy almost, the true reality of her freedom finally beginning to settle into her very bones.

“It happens,” Kier said, shrugging. Ashe nodded. Markus was still watching her carefully.

“I'm fine Markus just whatever you do don't throw me a party,” she relaxed against the cold stone of the wall. She was free, she had friends, people who cared about _her._ She felt as light as a feather as she glanced out the window at the grounds below only to be abruptly brought back to earth by the door opening.

“Hey Ashe do you have a minute?” Thog asked.

“Uh, yeah sure Thog what's up?” she put her book down, turning to look at him. Markus and Kier continued their discussion, seemingly unperturbed.

“I'm coming with you.” Ashe blinked. He sounded like this was something he'd put a lot of thought in to but she honestly didn't know what he was talking about.

“You're going to have to specify,” she said, crossing her arms. Thog sighed.

“After you get the map. You need someone who knows the Faerie Realm and I'll need to lie low for a bit. Until the Queen calms down,” he said. Ashe looked hesitantly over at Markus. Thog scoffed. “I don't care how well versed in magic Markus is, unless he somehow got his hands on all the secrets of the Faerie Realm royal family I still know more than him.”

“Hey I resent that,” Markus spoke up. “I mean how much do you really know about Eldritch energies?” Thog pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“You have your specialities, I have mine. Like it or not Faerie magic is in my blood,” he said. Ashe got the distinct feeling that the last part of that had more to do with Thog's own feelings than Markus'.

“Fair point,” Markus agreed.

“Why would you have to lie low, though?” Gregor, who had previously been quietly petting Orange in the corner, asked. “It's not like the Queen can actually do anything what with your siblings having that whole “we'll take over only if Thog absolutely 100% can not. Like he has to be dead or something” thing?”

“I've done a lot of shit things in the past, Gregor. Helping a mortal break into her treasury is not one of them. If the Queen doesn't try to kill me Cynbel or Jenny definitely will,” he sat down on Ashe's bed.

“Jenny?” Ashe asked. Thog seemed surprised for a split second before he remembered that she didn't know the names of all of his siblings, much less their nicknames.

“Right, Genovefa. Warrior Princess of Northall. Some people in court call her the oldest of the pure blood heirs or some shit like that,” Thog pulled a face. Ashe guessed, quite accurately, that the people who called Thog's oldest younger sibling that were with the Queen in her disapproval of Thog's position as heir.

“So that's... what three siblings we've met, three more we've heard about?” Markus asked, trying to count them off on his fingers. “Jenny, Ishild, Avila, Cynbel, Ward and Eoforwine. Who're we missing?” Thog raised an eyebrow.

“Why are you so fucking interested in my family all of a sudden?” he asked. Markus shrugged.

“Keeping up with the current political situation of any country you're visiting is usually imperative,” he said. Thog eyed him curiously but shrugged.

“Lin- Fiedlimid isn't really that important to the politics. She's been living somewhere in the woods for half a century and no one's actually seen her since she moved out,” he said. Ashe raised an eyebrow. Somehow the thought of someone who avoided the castle more than Thog was surprising to her but she decided to keep that to herself. Charoth made a discontented noise from inside his cot and she got to her feet, lifting the child up and out.

“If you're going to be coming with us I think Charoth needs to learn you're not going to hurt him,” she said. Thog looked unconvinced.

“I get all of my magical signature from the Queen. How are you proposing we manage that?” he asked. Ashe sighed and took a few steps closer to Thog. Charoth immediately pressed closer to her.

“Hey,” she said gently, “he's not dangerous. He's not the one who cursed you,” she spoke quietly, almost too quietly for Markus, Gregor and Kier to hear her but loud enough for Charoth and Thog to be able to tell what she said clearly. Charoth looked unconvinced. She glanced over at Thog who took an awkward step closer.

“I don't like that person either,” he said, slowly reaching his hand towards Charoth before stopping just within the child's reach. Charoth still didn't seemed convinced. Ashe sighed and bent her head so she could press a soft kiss to the top of his head.

“It's OK Thog's not going to hurt you,” she said. “And if he does you know I'd tear him to shreds,” she continued completely evenly. Thog almost yanked his hand back but remained in place. Charoth giggled. Thog sent an unamused look in his direction. Somewhere behind Ashe Markus was trying very hard to keep a straight face.

“I think I have an idea,” Thog said. “Could you leave me alone with him for a while?” Ashe raised an eyebrow.

“We were in the Prison of Lights for at least a day and you didn't manage to gain his trust,” she pointed out. Thog rolled his eyes.

“That's because I wasn't trying,” he said. “Now give me the kid I have an idea,” Ashe looked back at Markus, who shrugged and she sighed. Carefully she sat Charoth down on her bed before removing herself from the room, soon followed by Markus, Kier and Gregor. Orange, seemingly, could not be moved. Thog cautiously sat back down on the bed and faced Charoth, who was looking at him suspiciously. He sighed.

“Look, kid, I don't know how much of the world you can understand but here goes nothing,” he ran a hand over his face, trying not to think about the ridiculousness of his current situation. Charoth rolled to the side, looking up at Thog intently. “You don't like the Q- my mother,” he sighed, “so here's the deal. Neither do I and I'm trying to fucking help you.”

If Markus had been near by he would probably have acted scandalized. Thog, honestly, couldn't bring himself to care. Charoth looked at him curiously.

“So... er... you fine with me sticking around?” Thog asked. Slowly he reached towards Charoth again and this time Charoth grabbed a hold of his fingers. Thog let the kid keep his hand captive for a while as Charoth seemed to be studying him. “She's not exactly the best mother in the universe,” Thog offered. Charoth seemed to be listening so he sighed and went on.

“It's not like it's my fucking fault she decided to have her first child with an Alarani citizen,” he pressed the heal of his free hand against his forehead. “Not that that stopped her from acting like it,” he sighed.

“My childhood was fucked up,” he said in a resigned sort of voice. “I resented my first three sisters, babied the fourth and then the triplets came along and I tried to be better, dammit I tried and one of them still fucking hates me,” he flopped down onto the bed, staring up at the red velvet canopy above him.

“Why am I sharing this with a perpetual six month old?” he asked himself. Perhaps it was because he'd told no one, not even Moren, anything concerning his childhood and his relationship with his siblings. Telling someone who couldn't answer him and didn't really understand what he was saying seemed a far better option than facing the pity he didn't want.

Fifteen minutes later Ashe found herself considerably surprised at what awaited her when she re-entered her room. Whatever she had been expecting Thog to accomplish in the fifteen minutes she'd decided to give him this wasn't it. Charoth was curled up, resting on one of Thog's arms as the Faerie either slept or pretended to do so. She also instantly recognized the way Charoth was hugging Thog's arm. It was something he did when he sensed someone was in distress, something he did when he was trying to offer comfort. She kept her observation to herself, but saw Markus' brief frown out of the corner of her eye and decided he must have seen the same thing.

“Wake up,” Ashe said. “This is still my bed and it's getting late so I'd appreciate having it back,” she crossed her arms and stared down at Thog, who opened his eyes and sat up slowly.

“Right,” he said, seeming to come back to the present.

***

The days rolled by slowly. Excruciatingly slowly. After meticulously studying a map of the castle and the route they were going to take, where Markus, Gregor and Kier would be stationed and their quickest way out there really wasn't much else they could do besides wait. And wait. And wait. Ashe was beginning to feel like time had no meaning. Or perhaps the Faerie Realm was a few hours slower than the rest of the world.

The more likely option was that she was getting restless. She couldn't seem to find ways to make the time pass faster, though admittedly Orange's new found fondness for using Thog as a perch was somewhat hilarious. Charoth had seemingly accepted that Thog wasn't going anywhere and given Ashe's trust and Orange's new found fondness of him Charoth seemed to have accepted that Thog couldn't be all bad.

There was something else too, something Ashe couldn't quiet put her finger on. She decided it must have something to do with how Thog had gotten Charoth's trust. She also decided it was probably personal.

“Hey Ashe. You look bored,” Markus sat down beside her, pulling her out of the droning monotony that was her brain at present. She gave him an unimpressed look.

“You don't say?” she sat up, steadying herself on her arms.

“Gregor's offering to teach us a card game he used to play with the Outriders if you're interested?” he suggested. She immediately sat up straighter.

“Gods yes anything to make the time pass faster,” she said. Markus grinned.

“Wow you must really be going out of your mind with boredom,” he said. She rolled her eyes.

“Any more obvious observations to share?” she asked. Markus shrugged and got up, moving in that elegant way he always did when he was alert. She almost suspected it was an intimidation tactic. Only he wasn't intimidating. In any way. If anything he looked more like a delicate flower in bloom. She masked her sudden laugh at that thought behind a cough. Markus sent her a questioning look but decided to ignore it for now.

Together they made their way to Gregor's room where the other's waited for them. Gregor was in the middle of mixing the cards, Kier was watching him carefully. Thog was supposed to be watching Charoth but he was a little more preoccupied with the cat currently trying to make her way to her usual perch on his shoulders.

“I thought you'd accepted your fate as her royal cushion,” Ashe commented as she sat down. Thog turned to look at her, distracted for just long enough. Orange clambered quickly up onto his shoulders.

“She's not my cat,” he said, looking pointedly at Kier. The engineer shrugged.

“If she likes you she likes you,” he said helplessly. Thog scowled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So anyway things are beginning to happen.


	9. Chapter IX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ashe talks to inanimate objects and Thog has a dismal evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically just all the symbolism and horrible parenting.

It was the sixth of May. Ashe sat quietly munching on some trail mix Gregor had been kind enough to give her as she watched the sun set. The night of no moon was upon them and she was eerily calm. Her head was clear, her objective set before her and she felt confident that she could accomplish it.

Markus watched her silently from his place across the room. She had a look on her face that he had become very familiar with, one that told him she was focusing inwards but her eyes were different from their usual unfocused appearance when she was in this state. Now they were clear, like she could see her path before her with the sharp accuracy of a hawk. They were a little eerie, honestly, especially with the swiftly falling darkness revealing their pale glow. Despite what he knew he couldn't shake the feeling that, should those eyes turn to him, they would be able to peer into his very soul.

Honestly he was worried but she seemed confident and despite his joking he had come to trust Thog. As far as he deemed wise anyway. It seemed highly unlikely to him that Thog would betray them to the Queen. There was nothing for him to gain in that path. It seemed plain to Markus that Thog had long since given up on ever gaining his mother's love. He shook his head swiftly to snap himself out of that train of thought. Ashe, catching the movement, blinked and seemed to rejoin the waking world.

“It's almost time,” he commented idly, glancing over the where Charoth already slept in his cot. Ashe nodded as the last light of day slipped from the world, bathing the world in the complete darkness of a moonless night. Markus could, of course, still see perfectly well so it fell to him to walk over to the table and lit the candle.

“Lets go get Gregor and Kier,” she said, getting to her feet as soon as the flickering flame lit up the room. Though, as it turned out, they didn't need to do that. Gregor opened the door between Markus and Ashe's rooms, followed close behind by Kier.

“Thog says it's time to go,” Gregor said. Ashe craned her neck to look behind Gregor and Kier and, even in the dim light that the candles Markus and Gregor were carrying provided she could see Thog in the far corner of Markus' room. Or at least she could see a silhouette that looked like it could possibly be Thog.

“Good luck,” he said. She nodded.

“You too,” she said. If she had to be honest she wasn't sure which of them had it worse. At least she'd have her friends close by to back her up.

“See you at sunrise,” he said before slipping quietly out of the room. As per their plan the rest of them waited for five minutes before following him and they were undoubtedly some of the most tense minutes in Ashe's life so far.

The castle was silent. Thought the lanterns lining the walls still burned no one could be seen to tend to them. Despite how quiet Ashe tried to be with four people their footfalls still echoed somewhat in the bare stone corridors.

At the end of the corridor a large portrait of Thog stared menacingly at them. Ashe had to stop for a minute to figure out that it actually was Thog, though. A thin band of silver glittered on his brow as he sat, regal and proud on a throne of living greenery. He seemed younger than she had ever seen him, though not a year's difference showed in the face in the portrait his eyes seemed less worn. Less experienced and harrowed. This creature of magic and ancient pride, she thought, was more fit for children's tales. A harsh king or an arrogant prince from ancient times, not someone who walked the earth with her.

“I can't imagine he liked sitting for this thing,” Markus commented, also studying the painting. The teifling noted absently the fine flowing robes of silver white to go with the silver circlet.

“You're probably right,” Ashe said quietly, turning from the painting and exiting Thog's wing of the castle. In light of the portrait's appearance Ashe noticed how truly bare Thog's wing was. Only the most basic things were anywhere to be seen, nothing that could be seen as personal or decorative. It spoke volumes for how little he ever used the area. True, she hadn't seen his room but she couldn't imagine it was much different. Perhaps some old memento of childhood that he'd never bothered to throw out but that would be about it.

She brought herself out of her pondering by way of a small shake as she took in this entirely new area of the castle. A large staircase descended in front of her into a large hall. Going by the long tables they were definitely in the right place. Though it would have taken considerable skill to get lost following a straight corridor.

Quietly she began walking down the steps. Here already the lights had been turned out for the night of rest, no banquet was to be held, no music to be heard, no chatter of courtiers or laughter of lovers in the gardens. The castle felt almost abandoned. The sound of her footfalls was painfully loud to her ears. She moved as quickly as her need for silence allowed past the empty banquet tables, keeping close to the wall as much as she could.

It was almost too dark for her to see but still light enough that she figured she didn't have to give dark vision to herself or those of her friends who didn't have it. Gregor had sharp ears and Kier could be very attentive when he wanted to be they'd manage without complete sight. The dark shape of a large door loomed up in front of her. Quickly she darted up to it and pressed her ear against it. Hearing nothing but silence on the other side she tried the handle and found Thog had done his bit. The door opened without protest and the well oiled hinges made no sound, though the creak of old wood made her flinch.

***

Thog walked briskly past the stairs to the banquet hall, sending the smallest bit of magic he could muster down to the large door that Ashe, Markus, Gregor and Kier would need to get past. He strained his ears for the tell tale click of a door unlocking without slowing his pace. Satisfied that he'd accomplished the least challenging task of the night he continued along the long balcony that wound around the hall. He headed in the same direction that the others later would, though on a different floor. Through a door in the corner he reached one of the sitting rooms.

This particular one provided an excellent view of the sunset for those who cared for that sort of thing. He continued without so much as glancing around. Things seldom changed in Northall, he could probably walk through the castle blindfolded and not stumble once. In the far corner of the room from the entry point was the door he needed. He walked swiftly over and opened it, finding himself in a large, spacious corridor. Here the lamps were still lit and at the far end, at the bottom of a staircase, stood a guard.

“Your Royal Highness,” the guard's surprise was evident.

“I am here to see the Queen,” Thog said. The guard, a wulvern with the head of a grey wolf bowed and stepped out of the way.

“Of course, Highness,” he said. Thog moved past him without a second glance and began walking up the steps. The Queen's chambers were in the tallest tower the castle had. Some said that, from that vantage point, she could look over her domain and see anything she wished. This, of course, was a load of bullshit. The rooms up in the tower had always belonged to the reigning monarch and any spouse or spouses they might have. It would be his one day, just like it had been his grandmother's, his great great grandmother's and so on. It was supposed to symbolize how the royal line was untouchable and eternal or some shit like that.

He reached the top of the staircase and found himself in front of a large, ornate door. Unbidden memories returned of when that door had seemed gigantic. Of a small child standing outside it, staring up at the handle and trying to come to terms with him mother's rejection. Memories of poison words about unclean blood, scornful glances from courtiers that seemed to tower over him. Whispers that died down as he approached. But no one ever blamed the queen. Oh no she was beyond blame. It was always his fault that his father was human.

He shook himself, trying to get rid of the nauseating feeling that was beginning to coil in his gut. She held no threat to him. Even back then she had not truly controlled his life. Kyl'il had been at the palace back then. She had been more of a mother to him than the Queen ever had. It was largely thanks to her that Thog had eventually been able to see how much bullshit the idea of blood purity in the royal family really was.

With his thoughts back in line he finally managed to knock on the door. There was some shuffling on the other side and he distinctly felt the Queen's gaze through the door. The tingle of Faerie Magic on his skin was unmistakable.

“Enter,” the Queen's voice rang out from the other side of the door and he could clearly hear the tone of mild curiosity. He sighed. She'd definitely act surprised to see him, then. As if he couldn't feel her directing a reveal spell at him. Their magical energies were practically identical there's no way he wouldn't notice. Still he grit his teeth and opened the door, stepping into the large, spacious room.

The Queen sat by her desk facing away from him. Her hair was currently being combed by a brush moved by magic as she pretended to read through some document. Everything about her was, no doubt, supposed to tell him she did not care that he was there. Though, of course, she did. Not out of any affection, Gods no, she was most likely curious as to why he would visit her.

“Thog,” she said, turning away from the desk and getting to her feet. With a flick of her fingers the brush stopped its work and flew across the room and through a doorway to rest at the vanity in her bedroom. “This certainly is unexpected,” she tapped her fingers thoughtfully on the top of her desk as she rested against it.

“That I'm here or that I got through the barrier?” Thog asked. The Queen laughed.

“Oh you noticed that, did you?” she pushed herself away from her desk and walked over to one of her many bookshelves. Thog narrowed his eyes. “No I'm talking about that girl. She had the perfect opportunity to approach me on the first of this month, yet she didn't. Why is that?” Thog raised an eyebrow.

“How the fuck am I supposed to know? I helped her get in what she does next is her business,” he replied. The Queen did not look convinced.

“ _I_ think it's because she has nothing to bargain with. She is nothing but a pathetic little girl who thinks she can save the child she views as her older brother,” the Queen scoffed. “Mortals can be so arrogant,” she pulled out one of the books on the shelf, skimming through it quickly.

“That's fucking rich coming from you,” Thog commented. “Besides if I didn't get my recent history wrong that 'pathetic little girl' actually survived a binding when she was, what? Five seconds old?” he glanced sideways at the Queen and was pleased to note the distinct bristle in her otherwise composed posture. She snapped the book shut with some irritation and placed it back on the shelf.

“She may be a slight bit more... powerful than I anticipated but she is still mortal,” the Queen sounded reluctant. Thog rolled his eyes.

“Well la di fucking da she has a shorter lifespan than you,” Thog's tone was mocking at best. “And you actually think that makes you better than her,” he shook his head. If he didn't know her so well he likely wouldn't believe what she was saying but, unfortunately, he did and he knew only too well how proud she could be. The Queen sent him a cold stare and he almost flinched but managed to remain outwardly calm. Inwardly however his chest was tightening uncomfortably. He felt nauseous as he fought down the urge to flee the situation.

“Of course you would sympathize with them. I don't know why I ever expected you to have an ounce of pride,” she sighed. Thog grit his teeth.

“What is your problem? I didn't _chose_ to be this way specifically to fucking inconvenience you! There is only one thing I fucking agree with Xin about and it's that I shouldn't have been born! Because you sure as hell don't want me.” Thog had, surprisingly, managed to keep a somewhat even tone throughout this small tirade. This, along with the fact that he flat out hated her and that she was a terrible mother, was one of the key reasons why he interacted as little as possible with the Queen. He just didn't have the energy to argue with her but, inevitably, something would come up. His lacking presence in the castle, his time in Alaran and his status as a half human most of the time. Even though he had a perfectly good excuse not to be in the castle due to the fact that she had given him Lordship of the Shrouded Isles specifically to get him out of the castle.

“At the time I didn't think you were half human,” she replied easily with a tone that sounded more appropriate for talking about the weather. Thog straightened and pressed a hand to his forehead, willing the headache to just hold off for a little while longer.

“You really thought for even a second that I was actually Xin's son?” he sighed. True, Xin did have a child who happened to be half human but that particular individual was much younger than Thog and likely adopted in a move to spite the Queen. Not that that turned out too great for Xin or the kid as Xin was a frankly horribly irresponsible parent and Thog had had to pull the kid out of the lake at least once a month.

“We're moving off topic,” said the Queen, taking a seat in one of her large chairs. “The consequences of your birth are not my current concern.” Thog took a deliberate breath to calm himself.

“That's a lie but OK,” he took the chair opposite to her.

“Thog...” the Queen fixed him with her piercing gaze. “You are my son and I know you probably better than you'd like to admit.” Thog glared at her but remained silent, waiting for her to continue whatever train of thought she had going here.

“I say that you have come to know this girl that is now somewhere trying to get that child's time back. I also say that you have come to care for her. She is probably at the level of close acquaintance by now perhaps even someone you would call a friend,” she casually flicked her fingers to ring the bell for a servant. Thog absolutely hated how right she was in her guess but his face remained impassive.

“Even if you were right about that I still wouldn't know where she is,” he said. It was technically true, he had no way of knowing where exactly in the castle Ashe was at that very moment. The Queen laughed.

“Your eyes betray your heart, Thog. As they ever have,” she said, leaning back to take a more comfortable position in the chair.

“You are the only person on all of the Free Isles combined who has ever said that,” Thog pointed out in a mildly disinterested tone. The Queen laughed.

“But of course. You did get them from me,” she said. “Though I am afraid you will never have the ethereal beauty I posses-”

“What a fucking tragedy can you get on with the point?” Thog snapped. Privately he reminded himself that he only had to stay for a little while longer before he could go pick up Charoth and get the fuck off castle grounds. There was some solace in that thought.

***

The small garden beyond the banquet hall was silent, save for the occasional hoot of an owl. There also seemed to be a single solitary cricket that was chirping every now and then. Ashe moved away from the pathway under what Thog had described as one of the sitting rooms and out into the grass. A distant noise of a door closing made her heart stop for a second but no footsteps came their way so she continued through the grass towards the door on the other side of the garden.

Just as she was about to reach for the front door to the throne room it began to open. In a split second that felt like an eternity she dove out of the way and rolled into the darkest corner of the garden she could find, hidden by a moderately old oak tree. Out of the doorway stepped a guard carrying a lantern, Ashe winced at the sudden introduction of light but squinted out over the garden to find that, thankfully, everyone had managed to find a hiding spot in time.

The guard passed through the garden and into one of the other doors without pausing for long. Ashe let a small sigh of relief escape her lips as she let her eyes slowly readjust to the darkness. Returning to the door the guard and come out of she pressed her ear against it and found the room beyond was thankfully silent. Quickly and as quietly as she could she opened the door and slipped into the deserted throne room.

Markus was in next and he had to stop and stare, a soft exhalation the only sign on his wonder. The castle he grew up in had been grand, by all rights he should be used to sights like these but here in the dark of the moonless night so close to the throne of the Faerie Queen herself the sight stole his breath away. The castle back in Tannhauser was grand, yes, but is didn't seem built on ancient magic, the stone of the walls echoing with thousands of memories long since forgotten.

Great pillars of stone, carved to look like living trees, rose from the ground on either side of them where they stood by the great doors. At the far end of the grand room sat the throne, a high tree that had, long ages ago, formed the perfect seat for the then Queen of the Faerie Realm and still it grew, stretching its branches ever further as the years drew on. There was a sense of timelessness here. A promise that the Faerie Realm would stand. That through all of time's endless trials this one place would remain, ever growing and changing yet somehow the same as it had been when it was first built.

On one side of the throne room huge windows stretched almost from floor to ceiling and Markus had no doubt that on nights when there was a moon the light cast through those windows would make the throne room a hauntingly beautiful sight. He almost regretted that he'd never be able to see it. A sudden movement from Ashe caught his attention and he was suddenly reminded that he was in no position to be admiring architecture.

She moved briskly across the room until she was standing in front of the throne. In the dark she couldn't make out much but the dark of a distinct mass above her. She knew from the familiar noise and scent more than Thog's description that she was standing in front of a tree but she had no time to marvel now. Behind the massive tree was her true goal. Her hands shook slightly as she moved around the throne to the small door that Thog had described to her.

Taking a steadying breath and reminding herself of her goal she opened the door. The light that flooded out of the wide corridor before her was blinding. She had to shut her eyes against it and fell back a little, leaning against the sturdy trunk of the throne behind her. Once her eyes adjusted the found herself looking at a beautiful corridor, lit with floating lights that flickered like flames yet seemed to give off no heat. At the end of the corridor sat a large, gold plated door, ornate patterns of curling vines decorated it, curling especially around the lock.

Kier walker past her, looking a little nervous but determined. As the resident master of all things mechanical the engineer had at some point in his life, he had not divulged exactly when, picked up the ability to pick locks. So Ashe stood back and let him work his magic. In little less than five minutes a satisfying click was heard and the door began to swing open. Kier stepped back and out of the corridor to join Markus and Gregor on guard duty.

Ashe stepped into the royal treasury and she almost buckled under the sudden wave of magic energy. It was so thick here it almost made the air hard to breathe. The piles of gold and jewels, however, made no strong impression. Growing up as she had it would take a mountain of jewels to actually surprise her.

Once she recovered from the sheer amount of magic that existed in this room she began to properly look around. Several of the artefacts on the shelves were obviously enchanted, one golden goblet growled dangerously at her as she passed. The treasury was big but well organized. This was probably the first chamber and it seemed to consist mostly of things that glittered in the light. She took a gamble and headed down the stairs in back.

As she stepped into the room bellow the lights on the walls suddenly flared to life, revealing a vast collection of various pieces jewellery in all shapes and sizes. She had to stop her brisk walk through the room as a familiar silver circlet caught her eye. Thrown haphazardly into a corner, now covered in dust and spider webs, was the circlet of the crown prince. Clearly it was very much the same circlet as the one in Thog's portrait and she found herself wondering how it had gotten there.

Almost before she could think she had bent down and picked it up, gently brushing the layers of dust off it. She stared at it for a moment as it sat in her hands, waiting for her to do something. Feeling a little foolish she cast about for somewhere to put it that wasn't the floor. Whoever threw it into the corner so long ago probably had their reasons but she felt, somehow, that it was a disservice to this delicate looking yet sturdy heirloom. Her eyes landed on a glass case. Inside were several circlets, some adorned with smooth patterns or small gems, some plain. One cushion sat empty, the one right bellow the golden crown fashioned to look like a crown of leaves with red gems like autumn berries. She sighed and opened the case, gently placing the silver circlet back in its rightful place.

“Stay here for now,” she said quietly. “I have a feeling you shouldn't be left to gather dust in some corner.”

She turned and continued on her path through the wooden door at the back of the room. Her first reaction upon seeing the room beyond was to curse. Books and scrolls lined the walls and shelves from floor to ceiling. With a resigned sigh she began to look for something that could clue her in as to where in this huge vault the map was.

A podium stood near the door with a large, dusty tome on it. The cover was unadorned but when she opened it, after she had recovered from the dust cloud that rose from it, she discovered it was an alphabetical index of the contents of the treasury's library. Where all records and artefacts too valuable to keep in the archives were housed.

She stared at the book in undisguised amazement for a few seconds for it seemed to her eyes to be written in Meathean. Logic told her that it was likely enchanted to seem to the reader to be in the language they knew best but she still couldn't shake how weird it was to see those familiar symbols and words in this place.

Eventually she managed to find where the map was located and headed deeper into the vault. Far in the back among many other scrolls she found the one she needed. A quick check of its contents confirmed it was the map to the Cavern of Time and a new sense of urgency made itself known to her. Quickly she ran back through the jewellery room, up the stairs and out of the treasury. As quickly as she dared the shut the door behind her and continued her sprint.

As she ran out of the corridor and back into the dark throne room she had to stop and let her eyes readjust. Three sets of footsteps approached her and she looked up despite knowing quite well that at the moment she wouldn't be able the see her own hand in front of her face.

“Did you get the map?” Markus' voice asked from somewhere on her left. With a triumphant grin she held up the map, still clutched tight in her hand.

***

A servant came hurrying in just as the Queen was about to reply. The young girl was no doubt about to ask what the Queen needed when she stopped and her jaw dropped. She openly stared at Thog like she could not believe her eyes. Then again it was no secret that he disliked the Queen so he could understand why she was so shocked.

“Are you just going to stand here?” the Queen asked.

“Oh, no of course not your Majesty I am so sorry,” the girl curtsied. “Your Highness,” she aimed another curtsy in his direction.

“It's fine, dear,” the Queen said in a kind and understanding tone. Thog shivered, finding it entirely unnatural. The girl, however, seemed to sense nothing wrong. Then again why would she? She was used to kind words and patience from the Queen, Thog was not.

“What can I do for you?” the girl asked.

“Get me my supper,” the Queen replied.

“Can I get you something, Highness?” the girl asked, turning to him. He frowned briefly, thinking it over before shaking his head.

“I'm fine,” he replied. She nodded, dropped another curtsy and hurried on her way to the kitchen. Thog turned back to the Queen and gave her a prompting look. She clasped her hands together and looked at him.

“As I was saying. You like her. Something about her has gained your approval. You might even protect her if I were to threaten her,” she said. Thog didn't let any of his discomfort at how spot on she was show. It would only end badly for him. He had to admit that should any of those four be in danger he would probably put his life on the line to save them.

“Even if you were right about that you can't find her,” he said calmly. The Queen frowned.

“That may be true,” she said. “But it is equally true that she is wasting her time with whatever it is she is trying. I'm the only one who can recall Charoth's time from where it is currently stored.”

“Your point being?” Thog asked. The Queen chuckled.

“My point is that it must frustrate you. To know you could probably help her if you only knew _how_ ,” the Queen got to her feet and walked over to her desk. Thog narrowed his eyes.

“You have a plan,” he sighed. The Queen's plans were almost never good news for him. A short knock at the door signalled the servant girl's return. Whatever the Queen had been about to say died on her lips as she smiled and thanked the girl. The smell of a very specific tea reached Thog's nose and he had to stop himself from laughing. He somehow doubted the Queen would like reminding of the fact that her favourite tea blend had been invented by someone she had exiled from the castle.

“Now,” the Queen swept forwards, placing her supper platter on the table and reseating herself. “How you can help young Aesling.” Thog noticeably flinched. He had not expected the Queen to know Ashe's name tough, obviously, he had been underestimating her.

“Oh don't look so shocked,” she said, waving her had dismissively. “I've known about the possibility of her existence since her mother became aware of the pregnancy of course I know her name.”

“Of course,” Thog grumbled.

“Now, my son-” Thog tensed at that. She never called him her son as a way of addressing him unless she wanted something from him and she had to want it badly. “-there is a very simple way you can help her. Agree to my terms and I will free her brother without protest.”

“What terms?” Thog asked suspiciously. One thing was plain at least. The Queen was asking him to bargain on Ashe's behalf. He could already guess what she would ask, it was the only thing he had that she wanted him not to have. She'd ask him to do something that would veto his right to the throne. There were a couple things that came to mind immediately but he somehow doubted she'd ask him to kill himself or to fake an act to treachery to the Realm. Both would be far too suspicious.

“Marry her,” the Queen's voice cut through his mind like a knife. For a second all thought seemed to shatter away as his mind ground to a halt and he just stared at her. “You heard me,” she said calmly.

“You can't be serious,” he said blankly.

“It's the only way to veto your right to the throne that won't spawn a million conspiracy theories,” she actually sounded bored. Thog leaned his chin in his hand. It was true. Since he couldn't marry a mortal without giving up his right to the throne the Queen was forbidden by law from arranging for him to marry a mortal. It had to be something he chose himself.

“You're assuming she'll agree,” Thog said. The Queen snorted.

“Of course she will she's desperate,” she said dismissively. Thog shook his head.

“You really don't understand how fucking badly you underestimate her willpower,” he said, getting to his feet. The room was quiet as he walked to the door and opened it but just before he stepped out her turned to face her again. “I will be the King of this Realm. You're welcome to try and fucking stop me but I will have that throne one day, _mother_ ,” and with that he was gone.

***

Thog stopped only once he'd gotten back to his own wing. Slowly and deliberately he breathed, trying to ignore the way his hands were shaking. He had done that. He had faced her and he had won. He had won. For once in his life he had won. She had looked so stunned, like she had never truly expected him to defy her. Though that had really been all he and been doing for the last two hundred and fifty years.

He leaned heavily against the wall, reminding his legs that now was not a good time to collapse and he still had shit to do. His portrait glared down at him and he glanced up at the image of the proud and arrogant crown prince. He scoffed and straightened himself. Ethereal regality would never suit him. His eyes lingered for a moment on the painted circlet but he shrugged it off, continuing on his way towards Ashe's room. No doubt that old heirloom was still collecting dust in a forgotten corner of the treasury.

He walked into Ashe's room to find Orange perched on the side of Charoth's cot. Her lamp-like eyes followed him intently as he picked up the soundly sleeping baby. Charoth shifted a little but didn't wake. Orange took this moment to jump onto Thog's shoulders and settle there, as she so often did. Since it was the best way to get both of the tiny creatures out of the castle Thog decided not to complain. For a moment he hesitated, looking from the window to the door.

He grit his teeth as he walked towards the window. It was the fastest way to get out of the castle and right now he needed speed. So he threw open the window and leapt out into the night air, huge black wings unfolding and catching the wind. He scanned the darkened grounds for the agreed upon spot to meet up. His eyes landed on the large boulder at the edge of the forest and he sped towards it.

He landed not long after, his hair slightly windswept and his shoulders aching. He probably should begin strengthening the long unused muscles needed for prolonged flight. At that moment, however, that wasn't his concern. He let his wings disappear and sat down with his back to the cool stone of the boulder. Charoth yawned and opened his eyes, peering up at Thog curiously. Thog stared back down at the child and found himself questioning why the Queen would even curse this kid. He seemed so harmless and innocent. Why would the Queen screw with a mortal family at the expense of an innocent child?

Charoth seemed to somehow sense what Thog was thinking because he became more alert, staring intently at Thog. The Faerie stared back into Charoth's black eyes and something seemed to click in the back of his mind. He frowned, lifting the child a little higher and squinting at him. He really did seem like a normal changeling child but those eyes seemed familiar. He could have sworn he'd seen them somewhere before.

He shook his head, deciding it was better not to dwell on it right at this moment. Right now he just had to stay where he was and wait for the others to catch up with him. Charoth shifted a little and went back to sleep.

***

Kyl'il was having a quite relaxing night. She was tending her garden in peace when one of the lanterns she used to communicate with the Queen suddenly lit up and floated over to her. She frowned and stood up, cleaning the dirt off her hands with some fire.

“It's late,” she said conversationally. The Queen's image in the lantern flickered, which told Kyl'il quite plainly that she was pacing restlessly back and forth.

“I'm going to hire an assassin,” the Queen said after a period of silence. Kyl'il sighed.

“No you won't. We both know you wouldn't risk the political intrigue and conspiracy theories,” she said. She really wasn't alarmed at this any more. Whenever Thog did something that truly upset the Queen she always considered having him assassinated but it wasn't something she could do without permanently marring her pristine reputation.

“No not Thog,” the Queen waved her hand dismissively. Kyl'il raised an eyebrow.

“Who then?” she asked. As far as she was aware Thog was the only person in the entire Faerie Realm the Queen was desperate enough to be rid of to consider assassination. Which was something Kyl'il tried very hard not to think about too much. After all the crown prince was somewhat like a son to her.

“Charoth of course,” the Queen said. Kyl'il flinched.

“Merethyl-” she began, using the Queen's name in an attempt to drive home the seriousness of her protest.

“I know you were friends in his previous incarnation. That's why I just sent him away at first,” the Queen said. Kyl'il grimaced.

“Oh, so cursing him to never grow up was a kindness then,” she said sarcastically. The Queen rolled her eyes.

“Don't you start with me Kyl'il,” she bit back. “It didn't work and despite the fact that he's a _baby_ he's somehow gathered powerful allies. He always does this!” she growled in frustration. Kyl'il took a very deliberate breath to steady herself.

“Once. He did it once,” Kyl'il said in a tired sort of voice. “Besides even if you did have him assassinated it would do you no good. He would return in another new form unless you gave this would be assassin a power that no one should wield. We both know this, Merethyl and you have to accept the truth of the world. No matter how much you may hate it there are spirits more powerful than you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, yeah.  
> That happened.  
> I can safely say "some shit went down in Charoth's previous life"  
> Also yay the Queen has a name now!
> 
> Can you guess who Xin's adopted half human child is? You probably can.


	10. Chapter X

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Markus is an empath, Thog can talk to animals and Zalvetta is jealous of a cat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know this took a while but it's summer vacation and I had family shit to do.  
> I also had the worst case of writers block ever.  
> And then of course my kneecap fluctuated so that was fun -.-

Ashe relaxed somewhat once they were out of the castle. They still had a lot of ground to cover before the sun rose and the break in was discovered but at least there wouldn't be any guards out here to catch them. Thog had warned them of other things moving in the night, though. Especially a night like this one when the fair folk slept. Dark things made the moonless night their home, wrapped themselves in it's shadow and caused their mischief, unseen and unheard by any eyes or ears save perhaps those of the court assassins.

Sensing a pause in Gregor's step Ashe came to a halt and turned to him, though out here beyond even the faintest light from the castle it was really too dark for her to see him. Markus stopped as well and Kier crashed into him a second later, causing Ashe to wince at the sudden noise.

“Something wrong, Gregor?” she asked. She felt suddenly like someone was watching her and assumed that either Gregor had turned his eyes in her direction or it was Markus and his darkvision.

“I don't... think so?” Gregor sounded hesitant. “It's probably nothing,” she heard a sound like a hand lightly touching the light armour Gregor wore over his chest. She frowned.

“Are you sure? You don't sound OK,” she said. Gregor shook his head.

“I think so?” he said, though he still didn't sound completely convinced of his own words. She sighed and turned once again in the direction of the vaguely darker line in the darkness that was the tree line.

Gregor, meanwhile, could not shake the feeling of unease that seemed to have settled in the bottom of his heart. In that way that it didn't take up his entire being, it was just a steady, uneasy presence bellow everything else. Like the feeling wasn't even his to begin with. With a slight frown he glanced at the shapes of his friends but none of them seemed to be feeling the same.

A vague memory of when Markus had tried to explain emotional contagion to him resurfaced. His frown deepened. He wasn't so deeply empathetic that he felt other people's emotions, that was a Markus thing. Still this definitely didn't feel like it was coming from him.

He shook his head again and refocused on the path ahead. Whatever this unease was it wasn't coming from anything in his surroundings so he should be fine ignoring it.

***

Thog sat up straighter suddenly, causing Orange to start. Almost reflexively he reassured her with a soft noise and a gentle stroke. She eyed the tree line warily but settled anyway. Thog refocused on the reason for his sudden change in posture with a small frown.

For a second, just a split second, he had thought he'd felt a familiar presence skirting around the edge of his field. A presence he hadn't felt in years. Eyeing the tree line suspiciously he settled back against the boulder. He couldn't deny that that person would thrive in a night like this but he also could see no reason from the owner the presence to return. Unless something had happened that Thog was not aware of which could definitely be the case.

Orange climbed swiftly up onto the boulder for a better vantage point and Thog relaxed back against it, still quietly alert for a trace of that familiar presence. The cat remained up on the boulder, staring at the tree line. Thog dismissed it for the most part until he caught a swiftly moving shadow between the tree trunks out of the corner of his eye.

Abruptly he stood up, staring intently at where the shadow had been, holding Charoth in one arm, the other cautiously placed on the gun at his hip. There could be no mistaking it, someone was there. He could make an educated guess as to who, but provided his guess was right he could not trust their shared history to protect him should he be the shadow's target.

When only silence greeted his caution he settled back against the boulder, now more alert than ever. The ever present feeling of eyes on him was getting stronger. He tried to ignore it, reasoning that if the assassin was targeting him he wouldn't be aware of the eyes burning into the side of his skull. The thought was somewhat reassuring and he managed to relax again. Still he quietly wondered why the shadow would return.

***

The sky was beginning to get the slightest bit lighter when Ashe finally reached the boulder that Thog had designated as the meeting point. Gregor was not far behind her, though Kier and Markus lagged a little behind. Thog stood up, Charoth securely in his arms and looked them over. No words were exchanged as Ashe took Charoth back and the party moved into the forest, out of castle grounds.

The moment they were twenty paces inside the forest multiple things happened. Thog shoved her unceremoniously behind himself, Markus ducked, Orange yowled, jumping up into the nearest tree and a shadow sped so quickly towards them Ashe couldn't make out what it actually was.

The next second what looked to be a Siamese cat with hazel eyes was caught in a coil of blue magic. Thog's eyes were glowing as he glared at his captive. Which was a very hilarious picture, only amplified by the incredibly unimpressed stare the cat was returning. Orange on the other hand was still up in her tree, fur standing on end and hissing at the intruder.

“What are you doing here?” Thog demanded. The cat made a noise that might have been mimicking a sigh before its form began to twist, elongating and widening until a small blond person was hanging in place of the cat for a split second before the magic bonds seemed to realize they were too small and shattered.

“You're out of practise,” the stranger commented idly, eyes moving in a seemingly casual way over the assembled group. Ashe, however, knew a disguised searching look when she saw one and didn't miss that way the stranger eyes fixated in Kier's direction for a split second. Though she couldn't tell if he was looking at Kier or what little of Gregor that could be seen from behind the engineer.

Markus looked torn between shock and laughter, a stark difference from Thog who was still eyeing the stranger suspiciously. Ashe did not miss the cautionary hand he had put on the grip of his gun. It seemed clear to her that both of them knew this person in very different contexts. Another one of their number who seemed to be familiar with him was Gregor.

“Zalvetta!” Gregor called excitedly, grinning from ear to ear as he stepped out from behind Kier. The stranger, apparently named Zalvetta, turned to him and seemed to instantly relax. He darted forwards and seemed to assess Gregor carefully.

“He's fine,” Markus piped up. Zalvetta narrowed his eyes at the tiefling.

“You're lucky he isn't dead,” the assassin hissed before grabbing a hold of Gregor's wrist and dragging him off somewhere. Ashe stared at the spot where Gregor had just been standing for a few seconds before turning to Markus with a completely bewildered look on her face. Thog, too, was looking curiously in Markus' direction while Kier seemed to need a little more time to properly comprehend what just happened.

“I know how I know that kid but how the fuck do you know him?” Thog asked. Markus straightened and seemed to consider the question for a moment.

“I don't know how they met but I know him through Gregor,” he said with a shrug. Something seemed to click in Ashe's mind.

“Heart of Soot is about him,” she said, voicing her realization. Markus nodded, grinning broadly. Thog raised an eyebrow but didn't ask.

“Speaking of which how _do_ you know him?” Markus asked, looking at Thog again. Thog sighed, as if recalling some long bygone headache.

“That kid? I used to have to fish him out of the lake every other week because his dad was so horribly irresponsible. After the first few times he took to following me around like some kind of lost puppy. It was kinda cute actually,” he shrugged. Markus stared at the Faerie as if he actually could not believe the words that had just been spoken.

“We are talking about the same Zalvetta, right? Embodiment of nightmares, deadliest assassin you can find, Zalvetta?” he asked. Thog nodded.

“Yeah same person,” he confirmed. “He grew up moving constantly between the Ban Lands and Northall on account of Xin being the guy who raised him.” Kier frowned suddenly.

“What's the Ban Lands?” he asked. Ashe silently thanked him for asking because she had to admit she was curious too.

“A really fucking weird area that's kind of under Onorhian rule, kind of under Faerie Realm rule, but is still very distinctly its own legal entity with a leader who isn't really a King but might as well be,” Thog said. Ashe blinked.

“That explains nothing,” she said. Thog sighed.

“It's a political nightmare,” he said. Markus cleared his throat.

“Maybe I can help,” he said. “The Ban Lands aren't actually part of the Faerie Realm because they're not in any part of the Faerie Realm or its territories, but in the country of Onorhant. It can't really be counted as a Clan of Onorhant either because it's not officially recognized as such. The result was a complicated tangle of who owns what that was somewhat resolved about five hundred years ago when the Ban Lands came under the rule of a spirit named Xin, who has remained in power since,” he finished with a small bow. Thog nodded slightly. Ashe decided no to think about it too much as it sounded like, as Thog had said, a political nightmare, and politics were not her area of expertise.

***

Zalvetta and Gregor sat quietly in the early light of dawn. Zalvetta was leaning comfortably against Gregor's chest, the latter having removed his chest plate. The assassin's thin, pale fingers ran easily through Gregor's now untied hair. It seemed to have grown somewhat since Zalvetta had last seen the fighting man, if such a thing was even possible for someone with such ridiculously long hair.

“So the white haired one saved you,” Zalvetta said, more a statement than a question. “I suppose I'll have to thank her for that...” that was an understatement. Zalvetta could still feel the queasy sort of panic that had been his entire emotional state for the past two weeks. The vision of Gregor, alone and bleeding out in a darkness so deep and oppressive that even Zalvetta, half mare that he was, found it stifling, was not one he wanted to dwell on over long.

Worse still had been the knowledge that he could do nothing. Not while Gregor was on the grounds of Northall Castle anyway. There were people there who did not like him. People who had assassins at their beck and call and no matter how much Zalvetta might not like it one excellent assassin versus fifty good ones still spelled death for the lone one.

But Gregor was here now, he was safe and alive and in the quiet of the softly lit glade it was almost easy to forget Northall, forget the Ban Lands, forget Xin, forget the duty that Xin had forced him into by adopting him. With Gregor it was easy to relax, when he wanted to. Not that he ever fully let down his guard. He was pretty sure the first time he did that would also be the last.

“How long has it been since we sparred?” Zalvetta asked, suddenly wanting an excuse to break the silence and do something. He sat up and looked expectantly at Gregor. The fighting man shrugged.

“Since we last saw each other?” he said. Which did make sense as sparring was something the two of them did as often as they could. Zalvetta winced slightly as he counted out in his head how long it had been.

“Three months,” he sighed, getting to his feat quickly. Gregor followed close behind, getting into position.

“I don't mind,” he said. Zalvetta took his seeming momentary distraction as a chance to lunge at him but Gregor knew him too well to fall for something so simple. He ducked out of the way and sent a jab upwards towards Zalvetta's waist as the assassin soared past him only to have Zalvetta twist in mid air, much like a cat and land a few feet away.

There was a short pause as the two regarded each other carefully before Gregor took a chance. Ducking down he aimed a swipe at Zalvetta's legs. The assassin was faster, though, leaping into the air and, at the pinnacle of his jump he twisted in a way he would definitely not have been able to had be been completely human. Now aiming for Gregor's chest he sped towards the ground. Gregor rolled quickly away and jumped up even as Zalvetta hit the ground and rolled into an upright position again.

Zalvetta continued his movement fluidly, ducking around Gregor to get a shot at the fighting man's back. Gregor spun quickly to block the strike followed by one of his own. Had anyone seen them in that moment they might have thought they were watching a serious struggle between rivals for a second. Then the illusion brought on by the two's speed and the power of their strikes would wear off and the truth would be revealed.

The two were so in synch it looked less like a sparring match and more like a dance. They flew with a terrifying grace and accuracy around each other. Gregor's hair, still unbound as it was, fanned out, catching the light in a dazzling halo of golden brown. Zalvetta almost stopped to stare but his momentary distraction did not tip the match in Gregor's favour. Zalvetta ducked under an oncoming attack from Gregor and seeing his chance he caught on to the fighting man's collar.

In one swift motion Zalvetta pulled Gregor down and on to the grass bellow them. A few seconds of silence passed as Gregor lay there, staring up into Zalvetta's hazel eyes as the assassin grinned.

“I win,” he said, leaning down ever so slightly to kiss Gregor's nose. The fighting man sat up, reaching for the hair band that lay somewhere in the grass.

“Congratulations,” he smiled, then he looked down at his hands. “It's nice to see you again,” his voice held a quiet sort of melancholy that didn't seem to suit him. Zalvetta picked up the hair band Gregor had been reaching for and went to tie his loose hair up again.

“I should have come sooner,” he said. Gregor shook his head, causing Zalvetta to lose all semblance of progress on his hair.

“It's fine. Northall isn't the safest place for you, I understand,” he said. Zalvetta squeezed his eyes shut to get rid of the mild annoyance he was feeling.

“Hold still,” he said, “and I'm not talking about Northall. Gregor, it's been three months.” Zalvetta had long since come to the conclusion that he was a pretty shitty datemate. Especially for someone like Gregor who was almost annoyingly good hearted sometimes. Yet here they were. Gregor had returned his feelings but the fact remained that Zalvetta was still afraid of his. Feelings were a terrifyingly efficient weapon, years of being exposed to the shady underbelly of politics and then assassination had hammered that lesson in quite efficiently.

“I really don't mind,” Gregor insisted, but Zalvetta could see the slight slump of the shoulders that told him otherwise. Having finished his work on Gregor's hair he moved to sit in front of his boyfriend.

“I'm going to come see you more often,” he promised. A promise which to most people would have been horrifying, true, but Gregor was not most people. He had no reason to fear the nightmare incarnate that was his datemate. The fighting man smiled, leaning his forehead against Zalvetta's as a small chuckle shook his shoulders.

“That would probably be easier if either of us had a permanent address,” Gregor said. Zalvetta snorted.

“Probably,” he agreed, leaning into Gregor's presence. Quietly he noted Gregor's warm breath on his face and warm, soft, _living_ hands in his. With this solid confirmation that Gregor was all right the last of his worry slowly drained from him. Zalvetta really had thought he'd lost him. A rustle in the bushes leading into the clearing alerted the two of them to someone approaching, breaking the peaceful moment somewhat.

“Hi Markus,” Gregor said, even before the tiefling could even show himself.

“Sorry to break up the reunion but we need Gregor back now,” Markus said, grinning sightly as he leaned against a nearby tree. Zalvetta got to his feet, folding his arms behind his head.

“Fine by me,” he said. “I want to talk to that Ashe girl anyway.”

“I want to talk to you,” Markus said as Zalvetta passed him. The ninja shrugged.

“You'll have to wait. I want to talk to Ashe first and I have a feeling His Royal Highness has something to get off his chest,” he said, continuing towards where the others still waited.

***

Ashe had to admit she was somewhat surprised when Zalvetta had come back asking to speak to her in private. She couldn't really figure out a reason for him to do so but she agreed to do so anyway. She looked sideways at him as they sat a little ways away from the group. He seemed to be about Gregor's age, possibly a little younger, but he was obviously not human so she couldn't be sure.

“What did you want to talk about?” she asked. Zalvetta looked over at her, seemingly thinking about how to word whatever it was he was going to say.

“You saved Gregor's life,” he said. “I wanted to thank you for that,” he leaned back and regarded her with a curious eye. She shook her head.

“I wasn't about to let him die if I could help it,” she put her chin in her hand and returned Zalvetta's inquisitive look. The assassin chuckled.

“Curious about me?” he guessed. Though guess might be the wrong word. Ashe was pretty sure she was showing her curiosity clearly and even if she wasn't she had the feeling Zalvetta would sense it anyway.

“I've heard some things about you,” she said. Zalvetta grimaced.

“With me that's never a good place to start,” he said dryly. “But go ahead, ask,” he leaned back against a nearby tree, folding his arms behind his head and closing his eyes. It looked like a vulnerable position but Ashe somehow felt like that was the furthest from the truth she could be.

“Orange doesn't like you...” she commented idly. Zalvetta cracked an eye open and raised an eyebrow.

“The orange tabby's name is Orange? Who's brilliant idea was that?” he asked. Ashe glared at him.

“Mine,” she said flatly. Zalvetta shrugged.

“Fine,” he sat up a fraction straighter. “She doesn't like me because my mother used to sit on people's chest to bring them nightmares. I might also be able to. I don't know. Never tried it,” he leaned back against the tree again. Ashe stared at him.

“You're a mare,” she said. Though how she knew that was beyond her. She vaguely remembered her father talking about mares but dismissing them as mere superstition. Yet she was so sure in that moment that Zalvetta was one.

“Most mortals usually don't get that on the first guess,” Zalvetta said in an idly curious tone. Ashe looked down as the moss beneath her feet.

“I'm sensitive to spirits,” she said and left it at that. The assassin eyed her bindings and nodded.

“Figures,” he said, getting to his feet. “Now if you'll excuse me I have some catching up to do.” Ashe watched quietly as his form shrank back to the cat he had been when she'd first seen him and he sped off through the underbrush back towards the camp. With her company gone she found the forest quite serene and nice. Deciding Markus could take care of Charoth a little longer she leaned back against a nearby stone and breathed out, letting the noises of the forest calm her.

***

Zalvetta in cat form sped into the camp before slowing to a calmer walk, making his way to Thog. The Faerie gave the mare an unamused look as he sat down and stared expectantly up at him.

“You gonna insist on staying like that?” Thog asked, recognizing this from when Zalvetta was younger. The assassin had this infuriating habit of annoying Thog by using his limited animal shape shifting to just casually be some form of animal while the two talked, usually a cat, sometimes a bird. Zalvetta shrugged and shifted back, sitting down beside Thog.

“You and Moren still together or is there actually something behind how you're eyeing Markus?” he asked. Thog tensed suddenly and made a strangled sort of sound but a quick glance around the camp told him that no one had heard the remark.

“Fine turn back into the cat,” he sighed. With a satisfied smirk Zalvetta shifted back into his feline form.

“See? There are uses to having a conversational partner no one else can understand,” he said. Thog made a sort of growling sound but didn't contest the point. There was a period of silence as they simply looked over the others moving about the camp. Ashe returning from the woods, Gregor quietly taking care of his glaive, Markus making something probably food related, and Kier seeming to be deep in thought while he idly scratched Orange behind the ear. Finally Thog looked back to Zalvetta, who was lying comfortably in a soft spot and not in any way trying to hide his staring at Gregor.

“When did that happen?” he asked. Zalvetta looked up at him.

“Don't tell me you're going to go down some nostalgic 'where did the kid that used to follow me around go' path,” he said in a slightly disgusted tone. Thog snorted.

“Fuck no. You outgrew that kid when you were thirteen. Not exactly a nostalgic subject any more,” he replied. Zalvetta shrugged.

“That's fair,” he looked back to Gregor. Thog made a prompting noise and Zalvetta sighed. “About two years ago,” he said.

“About two years... your anniversary coming up?” Thog asked as a sudden thought struck him. Zalvetta winced.

“No...” he said a little reluctantly. “It was a week ago,” he dug his claws into a nearby tree root, a clear sign that that fact bothered him. Thog sighed.

“You couldn't help it. Northall isn't the safest place for you,” he looked back to Gregor and made a mental note not to tell Zalvetta about the weird mood Ashe had mentioned. Zalvetta gave him an unimpressed look but kept his mouth shut.

There was another period of silence as Markus approached with two steaming bowls of some kind of vegetable broth. Zalvetta shifted quickly back into his human seeming form to accept the bowl the tiefling offered to him.

“You know Thog can cook, right?” he asked. Markus blinked and straightened, looking at Thog as if he was reassessing him.

“I did not,” he said slowly. Thog scoffed.

“Of course I know how to cook,” he said, sounding mildly offended. Markus grinned.

“Then you're going to have to do your part and take your turn cooking,” he said. Thog shrugged.

“Fine by me,” he replied. Satisfied his job was done Markus returned to his place on the other side of camp where he'd been talking to Kier about something or other. As soon as he sat down again Orange took the chance to jump into his lap and make herself comfortable.

“I was teasing earlier but do you actually like on him?” Zalvetta asked, looking curiously at Thog, wooden spoon still in his mouth. Thog glared at him.

“No,” he said. Zalvetta just looked at him. He sighed. “So I think he's attractive, no more so than... I dunno Ashe I guess would you give it a rest?” the assassin remained silent as he sipped his broth. Thog glared at him.

The silence stretched on further, never getting awkward as the two just sat there finishing their broth bowls and watching the world around them. When fifteen minutes had passed with no talk Markus looked up from his place on the other side of the camp and Zalvetta was suddenly reminded of the fact that the tiefling had asked to talk to him. Getting up without a word he stretched and walked over to Markus, leaving Thog to watch the two of them vanish into the underbrush.

***

Zalvetta caught the low hanging branch of a nearby tree and hauled himself up. Once comfortably seated he looked down at Markus with an expectant look. The tiefling stood quietly returning Zalvetta's expectant look with a blank one of his own. The assassin sighed and shifted his possition so his legs were hanging off the branch.

“Aren't you gonna lecture me?” he asked. “Or, I dunno, do your disapproving mom thing about how long I've been gone?” Markus sighed and leaned back against the tree, staring off into nothingness for a while as he thought of how exactly to answer.

“I wanted to,” he said after a while. “I should, probably,” he sighed again and tried to run a hand through his hair only to get the blond locks painfully tangled around his fingers. Zalvetta looked carefully away while Markus untangled himself.

“So why don't you?” the assassin asked. Markus shrugged and there seemed to be a kind of resignation to him in that moment.

“I get it. Emotions are terrifying. Especially for someone in your line of work. But Zalvetta... you could stand to trust him a little more. Gregor's strong. He can take care of himself. Honestly he might just be the perfect fit for you. Someone you _don't_ have to worry about 24/7,” he said. Zalvetta's posture relaxed ever so slightly and Markus raised an eyebrow. “Let me finish. I get why you vanished and I understand your fear but I am angry. Next time it shouldn't take a mortal wound to get you back to his side.” Zalvetta made an odd sound somewhere between a sigh and a laugh as he jumped down from his perch.

“I'm not making that mistake again. Trust me,” he said. “Oh and just so you know you're the least intimidating angry person in existence. I should know. I was raised by Xin,” and with that he vanished up into the trees again. Markus sighed softly and leaned his head back against the tree. Almost unconsciously a familiar song began to slip from his lips.

 

_Do you feel that prickle just behind your neck?_ __  
_It's quite unnerving,_ __  
_you'd better turn around to check._ __  
_But as you swivel sharpened steel is pressed against your throat_ __  
_It's looking like that might be all she wrote_ __  
  
_The pint-sized ninja with a heart of soot,_ __  
_fishier than a halibut_ __  
_I don't know whether good or evil's in his heart, today._ __  
_Don't make a move, don't say a word_ __  
_Your death here might just be deferred,_ __  
_if you've never been a praying man,_ _  
_ _now might just be the time to start._

 

A rustle in the bushes cut him off and he looked over to see Ashe emerging from the underbrush carrying Charoth securely in her arms. The child seemed very content where he was, holding tightly on to her green tunic.

“You look tired,” she said quietly. Markus sagged a little more against the tree. Emotions had been running high for a long time now. He needed a break. He counted himself lucky he had as much experience as he did, had he been any younger he would have overloaded and shut down long ago. Still he smiled as he slowly sat down.

“It's been a tiring few weeks,” he said. Ashe sat down close to him but far enough away that he still felt like he had space.

“Anything I can do?” she asked. Markus shook his head.

“Just let me wind down for a bit,” he said. He took a very deliberate breath and breathed out slowly. Ashe was calm and Charoth content, which definitely didn't hurt. He didn't think he could be around negative emotions right now. Charoth shifted suddenly, stretching a hand towards Markus, who smiled softly and held out his hand in return. Charoth gripped on to him, trying to be comforting in his own child-like way.

Markus looked up at the sky and decided as the adrenaline began to settle, as his emotions slowly became his own again, that this was a good thing. That joining Ashe was a good thing. Zalvetta's return was a good thing. Kier's brilliant mind was a good thing. Thog's shrewd and calculating way was good thing.

He looked back to Ashe and found she had nodded off or was nodding off. He could never quite tell with her. Then again he wasn't exactly surprised. All of them, save perhaps Charoth, were severely sleep deprived at this point and it didn't take long for him to follow Ashe's example.

***

Before he even left Markus behind Zalvetta felt a familiar tug at the back of his mind. It brought him back to the time before he'd met Gregor. Right before, in fact. It wasn't strange for Zalvetta to occasionally get impressions of nearby mortals who were having non-mare-induced nightmares. It was something he'd dealt with his entire life. Gregor, however, had been different. For the first time ever Zalvetta had gotten an impression from the same source every single night. Sometimes during the day, too.

It had made him curious. What kind of mortal has a nightmare every time he closes his eyes? In some weird, twisted version of fate their meeting was not chance so much as Zalvetta's very nature drawing him to Gregor's side. He hadn't expected to get a boyfriend out of it, maybe some more insight into the other half of his nature, his human side but he hadn't expected to be loved.

Gregor still had nightmares every night. Zalvetta had been able to sense them from the edge of the grounds when Gregor had been at Northall. The impressions then had been weak due to how far away Gregor was but they'd been there.

Sure enough when Zalvetta returned to the camp everyone but the cat was sleeping. Orange, however, seemed determined to annoy him now that she'd gotten over her initial fright. She was curled up comfortably on Gregor's chest and as he ran into camp she gave him a very smug sort of look. He narrowed his eyes and walked over to Gregor's sleeping form, picking up the cat and holding her at arms length as she hissed and tried to claw at him.

Quietly he looked about and soon spotted her human. Kier was sleeping comfortably curled up into a ball underneath a tree. Walking over Zalvetta unceremoniously dropped Orange down beside the engineer.

With his work done he walked back to Gregor's side and settled comfortably with his head on his boyfriend's chest, listening to Gregor's heart beat. Slowly the tug of Gregor's nightmares on the back of his mind calmed. He breathed out slowly and fell into the watchful half sleep he was used to, eyes open to the world as his mind rested.

***

It was early evening by the time everyone was up and moving again. They cleared the camp and hid all traces that it had ever been there well. The sun was only just beginning to go down as they continued their trek into the woods. Ashe lead the way. Charoth, once again in a sling, was watching the woods around them with curious eyes.

Vaguely in the distance Ashe heard the roaring of a powerful river. She continued to weave her way expertly between the trees. Every now and then she slowed down to let the others catch up. Well, Zalvetta and Thog kept up quite easily but the others were not so used to making their way through forests with no paths to follow save those the animals made.

The forests of the Faerie Realm were wild and far more living than any forest that could be found elsewhere in the world, save perhaps on Meathe. The plants had a mind of their own and even long-used animal trails would grow over quickly should the animals abandon them for any length of time.

They reached the banks of the river when the sunset was colouring the sky in vivid oranges and the clouds were pink. Ashe stopped suddenly, her brow furrowed. There was something very wrong but for one long, drawn out second she could not put her finger on it. Then it hit her and she felt a terror like she hadn't since the Prison of Lights. The forest was silent. Charoth, too, had noticed it and his small hands shook as they clung to her but he made no sound.

She turned to her companions as they, too, stopped. Markus looked worried, casting about the growing shadows of the oncoming twilight for any clue as to why nature had quieted it's usual song. Thog was tense, his hand resting cautiously on the grip of his gun. Gregor's hand was going to his glaive while Kier had already drawn his sword. Orange's fur stood on end and she was very obvious in her dislike of the situation, which was definitely only partly due to Zalvetta who had produced to wicked looking blades from somewhere and had taken a very guarded position.

Ashe was about to draw her short sword when a crash made the very earth shake and a howl like something from the depths of hell rent the air. Those who had their hands free covered their ears, those who didn't dropped their weapons and did so anyway to escape the agony of the sound. Markus tried to yell something, a warning perhaps, or the name of the beast, over the noise but his voice was lost in the hellish call. Thog stood as if frozen and had the call not swallowed every sound in that instance they would have heard something akin to the shattering of glass as his large black wings were suddenly revealed in all their glory.

Ashe looked up for just a second as a huge shape came crashing through the trees but she had to look away again or risk losing her sight to the burning brightness of the creature. She began to turn, protecting Charoth the only thing on her frantic mind. The world seemed to slow down as something huge impacted her back, sending her forwards into the river as the creature passed them and went on, taking is deafening howl and its blinding brightness with it.

For a second Ashe remained dazed, her ears ringing and spots dancing in front of her eyes. The cold shock of the water, however, brought her back enough to realize what she had to do. As quickly as she could she clawed off the sling holding Charoth, pushing him in the direction of _up_ , of  _air_. Her hands breached the surface for a mere second and Charoth was quickly snatched away. She didn't have time to worry about whether he had just been swept away by the current or whether one of her friends had gotten him as she struggled.

She got her head above water long enough to get some air into her lungs before the current pulled her under again. She was a strong swimmer but the clothes and her weapons were heavy, assisting the current in overpowering her. Vaguely she thought she felt a hand try to grab her arm but the sensation was gone as soon as it was there.

Once more she managed to struggle to the surface but even as the air hit her face the current threw her hard against a stone. In an instant she went entirely limp, a vague far-off and desperate call of her name the last thing she heard before she was once again pulled under the water and the world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK I'm SORRY. I had to. I've had the plan to end a chapter like that. Exactly like that. Since I started writing this thing.
> 
> Also on a lighter note Zalvetta is here. And he's half mare (or mara if I want to speak Swedish) and honestly there's so much of mare lore that I couldn't even begin to cover all of it with one character. I also might have taken some liberties with Zalvetta's mind powers but technically I can to anything so...  
> Though I did actually (not on purpose at all this was an accident) make Zalvetta do two things that are things mares do but in a cute and non threatening way.
> 
> Also just... the embodiment of a nightmare. Of course that's Zalvetta. How could I resist.
> 
> Another thing I can apparently also not resist: cat Zalvetta and Thog with wings.


	11. Chapter XI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which local spirits are jerks, the precious children cry, and Thog's relationship with certain people evolves somewhat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here now, enjoy and sorry for leaving you on the cliffhanger for so long.

Thog swore loudly as he watched Ashe disappear beneath the roaring current again and not resurface. Markus looked lost where he stood, one hand slightly lifted the other holding Charoth. The child was crying but made no sound other than the sniffling intakes of breath. It was the first time any of the people present had seen him cry but at the moment they were all too shocked to pay attention. Kier coughed as he clambered back onto the river bank, Orange clinging to him, shivering and unhappy. Ashe had been unlucky in that the Dispeller had managed to knock her out into the middle of the river with nothing to grab hold of. Markus seemed to snap out of his shocked stupor suddenly and he turned quickly to Thog.

“You have wings! Fly after her!” he said, a definite tone of desperation in his voice. Thog glared up at the tiefling from his position on the ground. The weight of his drenched wings against his back was enough make it a considerable effort to get up, never mind actually using the things. Even if they were completely dry he could only fly shot distances before he'd start to run the risk of permanently damaging his wing and shoulder muscles.

“In case you somehow missed it they're fucking drenched,” Thog bit back. Zalvetta jumped down from a nearby tree. He was the only one who had avoided being knocked into the river as the creature rushed past. He walked cautiously over to Gregor who was shaking slightly, staring at his hands in dismay.

“I couldn't-” Gregor shuddered again and it definitely wasn't from the cold of his soaked clothes. “I couldn't catch her. She...” he doubled over, pressing a hand against his mouth as if to stop himself from throwing up. Zalvetta crouched down in front of him.

“Gregor listen to me,” he said gently. Gregor's head snapped up but he seemed receptive so Zalvetta continued, trying to ignore the crying child that Markus had finally gotten around to trying to calm. “This is not your fault,” he said as clearly and calmly as he could.

“Zalvetta I almost had her!” Gregor screamed, tugging his loose and drenched hair down to obscure his face. The assassin sighed softly and pulled Gregor close, letting the fighting man hide his face in his shoulder. Letting him cry or scream or whatever it was he needed to do while keeping the illusion that his friends still thought he was all right.

Charoth's soundless cries finally calmed as Markus soothed him. Even with how soft the noise had been the removal of the sound left the group in what felt like deafening silence. Despite the roar of the river, despite the sounds of nature starting up against around them after the passage of the Dispeller. After the cry of such a creature any sound would feel like silence.

“We should dry off,” Thog said. His voice sounded hollow and hopeless. “We won't be any use to her if we all get sick.” He remained seated where he was for a few seconds longer before getting up and shaking his heavy wings off as best he could. He looked around to where Kier was lying, staring up at the sky and exhausted.

“All right,” he said, taking a more authoritative tone. “Wet clothes off. Zalvetta-” he stopped and shook his head. Zalvetta was swift in battle but over distances his speed dropped drastically. Having him follow the river would do no good unless Ashe had already washed up on the bank in which case there would be no hurry to find her.

“I have spare clothes for everyone,” Markus offered, pulling a bag out from somewhere and throwing it to Thog. He opened it and pulled out one very red bundle, which he threw in Zalvetta's direction. The assassin caught it just as another bundle sailed over him and landed neatly on Kier's face. Thog pulled out his own bundle and threw the bag back to Markus who withdrew two bundles. One for himself and one for Charoth. He dropped the bag back where it came from as soon as he could, resolutely ignoring the untouched green bundle still inside it.

They changed in silence, no one feeling particularly like talking. Zalvetta quietly brushed through and braided Gregor's hair, Kier dried off Orange to the best of his abilities and Markus made sure Charoth was warm and dry. The last thing he wanted now was for the child to get sick.

Once they were dry Thog looked down the river and sighed.

“We should... search the river. See if we can find her or...” he ran a hand over his face. Markus took a deep breath to steady himself before reaching out and putting a hand on Thog's shoulder.

“She's alive,” he said, trying to make his voice sound as convincing as possible. Thog grimaced, shrugging off Markus' hand and eyeing the treacherous rocks and the roaring water doubtfully.

“I'm not getting my hopes up,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets as his wings vanished once again from sight and the sun finally vanished from the sky.

***

The night was moving on and there was still no sign of Ashe. With three people who had something akin to dark vision on the team Thog felt pretty secure in saying they couldn't have missed her. Not with her hair, anyway.

Markus walked quietly beside him, still carrying Charoth who had completely refused to go to sleep. The tiefling was unnaturally silent. Thog found it more than a little chilling and wrong. Markus wasn't one to walk around being quietly sad. Thog wanted to say they'd find her, that she'd be alive and well, but he wasn't hopeful and if he didn't believe what he was saying Markus sure as hell wouldn't.

The party continued in silence for a little while longer. In the quiet night it was not surprising that the soft, enchantingly beautiful violin music could be heard far before they saw the figure that sat neatly on a rock in the river. As soon as the first of the tune began to be properly audible Zalvetta clapped his hands over Gregor's ears and glared in the direction of the water. Markus, too, was beginning to look a little dazed so Thog saw fit to do the same for him.

“A little late for you, isn't it?” Thog asked, raising his voice to alert the figure in the river. The spirit in the river stopped his playing and stood, looking surprised. His long, brown hair flowed gently down his back and his pale green eyes gleamed slightly in the dark of the night.

“Your highness,” the nicor, or _Näcken_ if one wanted to use his proper name, said, bowing ever so slightly. “You are right, of course, I am more partial to the twilight hours. But something has drawn me out beyond that time tonight...” Thog's heart sank. Nicors were known to be omens of drowning. Sometimes also the _cause_ of said drowning but that was neither here nor there at the moment.

“We're looking for a mortal woman with white hair. She's kind of hard to miss,” Zalvetta said. The nicor looked him over and seemed pleasantly surprised by what he found.

“You are _en mara_ , unless my senses are deceived by some spell. It is nice to see a kindred spirit again. I'm afraid I have been alone for a very long time...” he trailed off. “But no, I have seen no girl.” Zalvetta chose not to answer.

“Is there some way you could tell if someone had drowned in the river today?” Gregor asked suddenly. The nicor turned to him with a curious look in his eyes but kept his questions to himself in favour of answering the one he was posed.

“I'm afraid I am only a forewarning of such tragedy so I cannot tell you,” he answered before he sat back down on the rock he had been occupying before they had interrupted his playing. Thog cursed under his breath.

“Thank you anyway,” Markus said and turned to move on.

“Wait!” the nicor called and the party stopped, turning tiredly to him. “There is one who could perhaps help you. The Naiad of this river may have seen something,” he said. Thog raised an eyebrow. River Naiads, potamides if you wanted to get technical about it, did not favour young men in the slightest.

Young women they were kind and gentle with but, as was painfully obvious, they had lost the only young woman on their team. Otherwise they wouldn't even be considering going to talk to the river's Naiad in the first place. Thog wasn't entirely sure how she'd react to Zalvetta, given that nonbinary genders were all too often overlooked in old texts. But then he wasn't sure how she'd react to any of the non-human party members. That is to say everyone except Kier and Gregor, both of whom were men on the young side of things. He groaned. Fate was not favouring them in the slightest tonight.

“It's worth a shot, isn't it?” Markus asked. Thog sighed.

“It's the only shot we've got,” he said, sounding considerably reluctant.

The potamide's home was easily found, if you knew how to look. A little down river, where the waters grew calmer, there was an area that seemed to form natural steps into the water. It seemed, to Thog's eyes, to radiate a particular energy. He stopped and held out his hand to stop the others from approaching.

“Do we have any honey, oil or milk?” he asked. Markus frowned, mentally going over the content of all food packs.

“We might have some oil?” he said, handing Charoth over to Kier so he could have his hands free. Orange quickly clambered onto Kier's head to make way for the child.

Markus, satisfied that Kier could take care of Charoth for at least a minute without any previous experience, snapped his fingers. Two imps promptly popped in out of nowhere carrying a heavy-looking provisions bag.

“I packed travel food, though. Quick and easy to make. So I doubt it,” Markus said as he searched through the bag, which seemed to be larger than the outside let on.

“If we don't we're basically fucked,” Thog pointed out in a dry tone. Markus glared at him.

“How was I supposed to know we'd need to make an offering to a river guardian?” he asked. A few moments of silence passed as Markus continued to search through the bag. Finally he grinned triumphantly and pulled out a bottle of olive oil. “Found it,” he said, jumping to his feet and handing it to Thog.

Without much ceremony Thog poured some of the oil in the river, not directly on the spot with the aura just close by. Nothing seemed to happen for a moment before the oil slowly vanished from the surface of the water and the figure of a woman reluctantly rose out of the water. She was clad in loose garments and her long, dark hair hung so low even when she seemed to be standing at her full height it disappeared into the water.

“What do you want? And it better be quick that was one of the most pathetic offerings I've ever seen,” she snapped, eyeing them with what Markus could only describe as disinterested disdain. There was no hostility just yet, though she seemed to narrow her eyes somewhat at Gregor and Kier.

“We want to know if a girl drowned in the river today,” Thog said. The Naiad raised an eyebrow.

“You seem familiar,” she said, though her tone still clearly betrayed how little she thought of all of them. “You're the Crown Prince, aren't you?” she eyed him with renewed distaste.

“So I'm the Crown Prince, have you seen a girl here today or not?” he asked. Markus sighed and stepped forwards.

“Thog maybe you should let me-” he began.

“No, let His Highness speak,” the Naiad said, cutting Markus off mid-sentence. “I'm curious as to how he can make himself sound like more of a simpleton,” she crossed her arms, waiting for Thog to continue. The Faerie Prince took a deliberate moment to steady himself.

He drew himself up to his full height, squaring his shoulders and holding his head high. To those who knew him, however, he seemed to diminish. Become less himself. A rehearsed persona, hammered into his skull by years upon years of the Queen's scorn and the cruel gossip of the courtiers.

Markus almost flinched, but managed to keep a lid on his reaction. He knew just how toxic a royal court could be. He knew, thankfully only second hand, the devastation a whisper in the wrong ear could do. He had seen it from the eyes of a servant, taught to keep his head down and mind his own business. Of course he had never been particularly good at that but that was another story for another time.

Thog, on the other hand, had lived it. Abruptly Zalvetta turned away and tried to make his exit into the nearest tree seem natural. Markus privately called bullshit even as Gregor walked over to the tree and leaned against it in a silent act of support.

“A friend of ours might have drowned in your river,” Thog said, finally speaking. The Naiad raised an eyebrow.

“I haven't seen anyone,” she said shortly. “Human?” she prompted after a thoughtful pause.

“Yeah she's human... I think... she's human, right Markus? I was never quite clear on that...” Kier spoke up. Markus turned to Kier, carefully taking Charoth back from the large arms of the engineer. Said engineer looked significantly relieved to have his hands free again.

“She's human, Kier,” Markus said, settling the child comfortably in his arms.

“Well then at least she didn't drown,” the Naiad said. “If she had drowned the remnants of her soul would bleed into the water and I would sense her.” Everyone present seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” Markus said earnestly.

“Don't get your hopes up,” the Naiad said dryly. “I just said she didn't drown. She could still be dead. Bashed against the rocks until no bone remained unbroken, neck snapped by an oncoming tree branch, bleed out thanks to-”

“Fuck you,” Thog cut her off, looking vaguely like he was going to be sick. She smirked and, without another word, sank back into the water, leaving a heavy silence behind.

***

Markus was quiet as they sat by the camp fire. They had all agreed to a few short hours of rest but Charoth, Kier and Gregor were currently the only ones actually taking advantage of that. Zalvetta had vanished into the darkness as soon as they paused their search but he would be back soon enough. It wasn't like he could go very far, anyway.

Markus stared down at the sleeping baby in his arms. He was intensely aware of that Charoth might no longer have his younger sister to take care of him. That Ashe might be, was probably, no longer living. He looked over the fire to where Thog sat on the other side, staring into the flames. His eyes looked more dead than usual.

“What do we do if she's-” the last word caught in Markus' throat. As if saying it aloud would make it true. Thog looked up at him and sighed, beginning to fidget with the cuffs of his sleeves.

“I don't know,” he said, looking back down into the fire as if it held the answer to life, the universe and everything. “I've only known her for two fucking weeks how am I supposed to know?” he pressed his knuckles against his forehead. Markus looked back down to Charoth.

“She'd want us to find the Cavern,” he said. Thog glanced sharply up at him.

“Probably. But it won't do anyone any fucking good if we start talking like we already know she's dead,” he picked up a small pebble where it lay beside him and tossed it lazily up several times, always catching it perfectly on decent. Then without the slightest forewarning he tossed it at Markus. The tiefling tried to catch it but he was too slow on the uptake and the small pebble neatly hit his chest.

“Ow!” he complained, though it was an exaggeration. The tiny thing had been completely indiscernible through his clothes.

“Get some sleep,” Thog said. Markus hummed thoughtfully, leaning back and regarding Thog carefully.

“Wasn't last night supposed to be some big night of rest for you?” he asked. Thog sighed.

“Don't fucking try to turn this around on me. You didn't any sleep either,” he countered. Markus looked back down to Charoth's sleeping face and his heart felt uncomfortably hollow.

“I don't think I can right now,” he said. Thog stood, walked round to Markus' side of the fire and sat down. They didn't speak and neither reacted much when Zalvetta sped back into camp only moments before Gregor began to thrash and scream. Markus was a little surprised the terror hadn't come earlier.

***

The first thing Ashe registered was hurt. Everything hurt, her head, her arms, her legs, _breathing_ hurt. She was pretty sure her entire body was just one gigantic bruise but her back seemed to be especially sore. Slowly she opened her eyes and found a moment to be thankful for the starry sky above her. Then she registered the dark shape looming above her and even with her aching limbs her instinctual reaction won out and she punched upwards. The figure staggered back, a string of curses falling from her lips.

“Ow! What the fuck?” the stranger exclaimed, glaring in Ashe's direction. Ashe, however, was too busy wincing as her arm reminded her that everything hurt to pay proper attention.

“Don't startle people like that!” she said after a while.

“Wow fuck you, too. That the last time I pull a stranger out of a river,” the shadow said as she ignited a spark to light a fire in the fire pit she'd made. Ashe tried her best to look over her saviour and was faced with a short woman with long brown hair and a large mostly blue hat. Ashe also noted that the stranger's nose was bleeding and cringed a little.

“Well how was I supposed to know you weren't trying to kill me?” she defended herself. The stranger sent her a withering look.

“If I wanted you dead I wouldn't have gone through the trouble of getting you out of the water,” she pointed out. Ashe let her head fall back onto the ground and breathed out.

“Why did you?” she asked. The stranger glared at her.

“You're a human with bindings who was floating down the river from the direction of Northall,” she said flatly. “You were interesting,” she leaned back against a nearby boulder and regarded Ashe carefully. Ashe, on the other hand, had just remembered what had gotten her into this situation in the first place. She sat up abruptly only to instantly regret it as her body screamed at her to not do that.

“Fuck,” she doubled over, trying to ignore the pain. She eyed the stranger and decided privately not to use her powers. There seemed to be no serious damage so she should be fine just letting her banged up body rest. “Was there anyone else?” she managed to get out. The stranger looked at her blankly for a moment.

“No,” she finally answered. Ashe bit her lip, trying to decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“Mind telling me your name?” she asked after a while, lying back down on the ground. The stranger glared at her but eventually seemed to give in. She sighed, leaning her chin in her hand.

“I'm Inien,” she said. Ashe made a short affirmative noise.

“Ashe,” she replied. Inien looked her over again. Her irritation had not entirely gotten rid of her curiosity, it would seem.

“Are you one of those people who thinks they can make a deal with the Fair Folk and then gets their ass kicked by technicalities?” she asked. Ashe glowered.

“No,” she answered. She was a little tempted to add that she was not because that title fell to her mother but she didn't like this Inien person and trusted her less so she kept her mouth shut.

They sat there in silence as Ashe quietly worried for her brother and her companions. She knew she couldn't count on any of them being alive and the thought of that sent chills down her spine and put a distinctly sick feeling of worry in her gut. Inien, on the other hand, seemed to have decided she was going to ignore Ashe's presence and stargaze for a while.

They sat in silence, neither acknowledging the presence of the other. The forest was calm and the normal nightly noises were a relief to Ashe's ears. They weren't ringing any more and her eyes hadn't reacted badly to the light so she felt safe in assuming she either didn't have a concussion or she had one and was experiencing no symptoms yet.

She bit her lip as she stared up at the constellations above her. Here, by the bank of the river, there were few trees to block her line of sight. She knew the stars well. Or, she knew their Meathean names and meanings. She hadn't really had time to learn their names in the common tongue. If they even had names in the common tongue. After all every culture had a different legend for the stars. There wasn't really any proper way to translate that.

She found it somewhat amusing that the constellation that was clearest to her now, hanging right above her in the sky, was the one that on Meathe was called Caoimhe's Throne or, occasionally, the Throne of the Guardian. Stories told of an ancient time, before Meathe was settled, when Ashe's ancestors still sailed the high seas. A Captain had risen, more powerful and feared than any before her, yet better loved as well, for she listened and she valued her crew.

Because of this people flocked to her banner and soon they were like a nation with no land. It wasn't she who founded Meathe, but she was the one who gathered the people who would form the nation beneath one banner. And coincidentally she was also Ashe's ancestor and fellow in the 'no one outside of Meathe knows how to pronounce our names if they see them written' club.

Upon her death she became promoted to almost a Goddess among her people. These days she actually was revered as the Goddess of Healing, Travel and Beginnings. No doubt the stories had been somewhat embellished since that time but now the legends told that she could heal wounded crew members with a single touch, that her hands brought down light from the heavens themselves to guide the path of her fleet on starless and moonless nights. This had, of course, led people to believe that Ashe was a reincarnation of Caoimhe and they just would not be persuaded otherwise. This might in part have something to do with what Ashe liked to call 'the ancestor factor'. An annoying little thing and one of the many reasons she placed so little importance on relation by blood.

Ashe closed her eyes and sighed. She slowly brought her right hand up over her heart and, for a brief second, the considered actually praying for the first time in seventeen years. Of course she soon cast the idea aside. She had long since stopped trusting in the Gods. That and she should technically be kneeling if she wanted the prayer to work so that was a little bit out of the question.

“Are you gonna pray or not?” Inien's considerably annoyed voice broke the silence. Ashe's eyes snapped open and she glared at the woman by the fire.

“Did you seriously just do that?” she asked, sitting up again, ignoring the pain in her entire body she shuffled closer to the fire to sit by an old, dry log. Inien scoffed.

“Well were you?” she asked. Ashe's glare hardened.

“That's not your concern,” she snapped. Despite how little attention Ashe paid to the Meathean Gods, she still knew it was not OK to interrupt someone who was praying. Or, more accurately, having somewhat of a crisis of faith.

“I suppose,” Inien yawned. “But now I really want to know,” she said. Ashe glowered.

“Yeah no I'm not telling you,” she said with finality. Inien shrugged.

“Suit yourself,” she said. “I'm just saying life's easier without Gods. The people where I'm from got rid of their Gods centuries ago.” Ashe frowned, sending Inien a hesitant look.

“What exactly does 'got rid of' mean in this context?” she asked.

“They killed them,” Inien replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Ashe stared at her for a minute, lost for words.

“Yeah... OK,” she replied slowly. “You try doing that when your Gods supposedly live in the stars.” Inien looked somewhat surprised and sat up a little straighter.

“Oh so... oh your Gods are an actual religion that humans came up with. It's not influenced by spirits,” Inien mused aloud. She looked somewhat intrigued at the prospect. “That's... new,” she leaned back against her rock again. Ashe blinked.

“No it's not?” she said. “Meathe is just... very, very isolationist... yeah, I can see how you'd never heard of the Meathean Pantheon before,” she said. The look on Inien's face made Ashe think that perhaps she was not one who liked to admit that she didn't know things.

The two remained silent after that. Ashe focused inwards and slowly she began to assess the damage her involuntary trip down the river had done. Her back, even now that she wasn't lying down, ached more than the rest of her. She suspected it had something to do with the touch of that... thing, whatever it had been. She shuddered involuntarily. She could go her entire life without ever even hearing mention of it again and it would be too soon.

She determinedly moved on. Her left shoulder ached in a way similar to when her kneecap had been dislocated when she was fifteen. She frowned, confused. The joint was in it's right place so there should be no reason for the pain. She sent a suspicious glance over at Inien but dismissed her suspicion.

Her legs felt heavy and one of her ankles throbbed with a dull ache. Then again the rest of her body felt heavy, too. The ankle did actually feel like it could possibly be sprained, though. She bit her lip and frowned.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath. That was going to be a distinct problem unless Inien was planning on leaving soon so Ashe could comfortably heal herself. Inien raised an eyebrow and Ashe cursed again, silently this time. Not the best time to be talking to herself, probably.

Ashe, for the moment resigned to her current position and in desperate need of rest, slowly lowered herself down to the ground so she was laying on her side. As she began to slip into sleep, with Caoimhe's Throne above her and the firelight dancing in front of her eyes, a song began to spin itself in her mind. She dared not open her mouth to sing herself to sleep and she determinedly kept her mind from the fact that Charoth was not there for her to sing to, either. So she let the words, echoes of unhappy memories and a life she didn't want, ring in her ears as she drifted into an uneasy sleep.

 

 _They called me a guardian, wreathed me in jewels,_  
_Gave me food and a place to call home._  
_My father insisted on only one rule,_  
_From this island I must never roam._  
  
_He told me of the ancient might,_  
_That I held just underneath._  
_He whispered as he held me tight:_  
_'You'll never leave this place called Meathe.'_

***

Ashe woke with a uniquely sick feeling in her gut. Her dreams had no been easy ones, filled with old memories and new fears. The image of her friends and her brother with the morbidly familiar look of drowned corpses was permanently burned into her brain. She shuddered and resisted the reflex to empty her already mostly empty stomach onto the ground below her.

Inien was standing off to the side, making a somewhat half-assed attempt at brushing the tangles out of her hair. Though, to be fair, Ashe was comparing to Markus in this case and Markus took almost ridiculously good care of his hair. Gregor's, too, for that matter. He seemed to have deemed her, Thog and Kier as lost causes, though. Herself and Thog likely because the both of them actually could not care less. Kier likely because his frequent exposure to explosions rendered any time spent on caring for his hair useless within a few hours tops.

Quietly Ashe pushed down the voice in the back of her head that seemed so intent on telling her that all of that was probably gone now. That she'd never see them again and that this had all been for nothing. That she had nothing and no one left.

She clung to the memory of the split second before she had lost consciousness like a lifeline. There had been a lot of pain, blinding, overwhelming pain, but she had heard someone. She couldn't parse from memory who's the voice had been but _someone_ had been safe enough to call out for her instead of having to fight for their life. She took some small comfort in that and hoped she wasn't deluding herself.

“Do you have any food?” Ashe asked, looking over to Inien again. The witch turned and shot her a withering look.

“No. I'm out in a Faerie Realm forest without any provisions,” she said with a definite tone of sarcasm. Ashe ground her teeth, trying to resist the urge to bite back.

“You know I meant any you're going to share with me,” she said. Inien seemed to consider that for a moment, though Ashe got the distinct feeling that way just for show.

“Get your own,” she finally said. Ashe gaped at her.

“I can't walk!” she exclaimed, gesturing to her definitely sprained ankle. Inien raised an eyebrow.

“Not my problem,” she said. Ashe clenched her hands into fists.

“Why are you like this!?” she demanded. “You're the one who fished me out of the river!” she was past exasperated at this point. For some reason Inien knew exactly how to push every single button she had. Inien glared at her.

“That was minimal effort!” Inien exclaimed, countering what she had said last night. Her words then had made her actions seem much more heroic. Ashe narrowed her eyes. “OK so I might have found you halfway washed up on the riverbank and you piqued my interest enough to drag you completely out of the water.” Ashe gave her a very unimpressed look.

“So I would have survived just fine without you,” she said, more a statement than a question. Inien straightened, placing her brush back in her pack and pushing her hair back so it hung loose behind her again.

“Yeah,” she said, stretching lazily as she said it. Ashe grumbled something incredibly rude under her breath. Inien either ignored her or didn't hear the remarks. “You'd be a working arm short but sure,” Inien shrugged. Ashe glanced at her left shoulder.

“I'm surprised you know how to pop a joint back in to place,” she said as coolly as she could manage. Inien snorted.

“I don't,” she said. Ashe nearly chocked on the air.

“ _What_!?” was all she could think to say, her right hand going up to her left shoulder and beginning to tentatively and somewhat fearfully examine it. “I swear if you fucked up my shoulder I am going to _end_ you,” she warned. Inien gave her a blank look.

“Has anyone ever told you you're really ungrateful?” she asked. Ashe glared at her.

“Has anyone ever told you you're completely insufferable?” she snapped back. Inien laughed.

“Oh I've been told way worse,” she said, a distinct kind of smug look on her face, like she was proud of that fact. Or she was insulting Ashe for not calling her something worse than insufferable. Either way Ashe was beginning to _really_ look forwards to when they'd be parting ways. Finding nothing immediately wrong with her shoulder she relaxed somewhat but her feelings remained steadfast.

***

As the sun began to climb slowly above the treetops Thog was beginning to think it better they just give up and get some proper rest. A few sparse hours in the middle of the night hardly counted. Markus looked exhausted and had progressed from worried and prepared for the worst to resigned with no optimism left. Partially due to his complete exhaustion.

Charoth's body had eventually caught up with how tiring it was for him to be constantly awake and the child had been slumbering in a worried sleep for about an hour. Kier looked dead on his feet. Only Gregor and Zalvetta looked like they had any energy left, actually.

Thog stumbled to a halt as a voice faintly reached his ears. Zalvetta, too, stopped and cocked his head to the side, trying to get a better read. But it was a little too far away still to tell and after the initial faint echo it remained silent. Which would be just like her, irritating people without even knowing it.

“She could have a location spell?” Zalvetta suggested. Thog nodded and the group continued moving forwards with few words until they reached a small camp site by the river. Thog was about to greet Inien when a familiar head of white hair caught his eye. His eyes snapped over to where Ashe was sitting, looking considerably banged up and a little too pale even for her but definitely alive.

“Ashe,” he said, not really able to think of anything else to say. She started and looked up at him. For a moment she seemed to take in the group, sizing all of them up and making sure everyone was there, before she breathed an audible sigh of relief, her eyes fixing in on Charoth.

“Ashe!” Markus spoke up. “You're safe, oh thank- oh no,” the final few words of his greeting to Ashe seemed somewhat off but as soon as he began to topple backwards Thog clearly got the picture and darted forwards, catching him and Charoth before they had a chance to fall unceremoniously to the ground thanks to Markus' exhaustion. Thog slowly lowered Markus to the ground, though the tiefling was somewhat unaware of that fact as he had passed out the moment Thog caught him. Charoth's sleep calmed and the two remained there, oblivious to the world around them.

Behind them Kier sat down heavily, flopping onto the ground and pulling his cape up over his head to block out the rising sun. Orange jumped from him and quickly trotted over to Ashe, curling up next to her. Gregor breathed out slowly, his relief practically tangible. Zalvetta stood right behind him, a silent presence. To his credit he seem somewhat relieved. Of course Thog knew it was for Gregor's sake not Ashe's but he'd take what he could get.

Carefully Thog picked Charoth up and off of Markus. The child remained sleeping until the very moment that Ashe took him back from Thog. Then his dark eyes opened and he stared up at his sister. After a long moment of staring he reached up and took a familiar hold on her green tunic.

That small movement seemed to break some kind of tension that had briefly hung in the air. Ashe pulled Charoth as close as she dared, taking time to let it sink in that he was here, he was safe, she hadn't failed. She drew a shuddering breath, bowing her head half to hide her suspiciously wet eyes, half so she could be just that much closer to her brother.

She heard but didn't truly listen to Thog as he began to converse with Inien. She registered, somewhere in the back of her mind, that their tones seemed familiar but she didn't have the energy to figure out why at that moment. Instead she focused on Charoth. He smiled his toothy smile up at her and she returned it, small and wavering though it was.

She was a little tempted to take a leaf out of Markus' book and just fall asleep where she sat. It seemed like a very good option right now. She wondered briefly if her friends had gotten any sleep at all.

As if to answer her question Charoth yawned. He squirmed in her arms, obviously trying to keep his eyes open.

“Just sleep. I'll still be here when you wake up,” she said softly. She herself did not register the words as being in the Meathean language but Thog briefly glanced to her and Gregor blinked. Charoth yawned again and slipped quietly and without much fuss into a peaceful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caoimhe is, in this case, pronounced "KEE-va"
> 
>  _en mara_ \- "a mare" in Swedish. The reason Näcken switches over there is because mares and nicors are both Germanic legends, and most of the inspiration for Zalvetta and this... one character that won't appear again, is from the stories I grew up with (that is to say the Swedish ones). Hence the "kindred spirit" thing.
> 
>  **Näcken** , also known as the neck, nicor, nixie or nokken, is a Germanic water spirit. They were said to inhabit rivers and other flowing bodies of water, playing enchanting songs that lured people into the water so they'd drown. Sometimes, however, a nicor wouldn't be evilly inclined and would actually teach people how to play the fiddle.
> 
> There are several different stories and legends so, once again, can't cram it all into one character. Certainly not one that appears for, like, nine paragraphs.
> 
>  **Naiads** are from Greek mythology and it was said that drinking a potamide's water would inspire people, give them a prophetic gift and a natural talent for poetry.
> 
> For this particular Naiad just imagine Rosa Diaz's tone of voice and you're pretty much set.


	12. Chapter XII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which emotions are delivered via apples and Zalvetta is too stubborn for his own good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow it has been so long. How've you lot been? I am exhausted.

Ashe's mind was a bit of a blur for the next hour or so. All she could clearly remember was Orange at her side and Charoth in her arms. Gregor had at some point come to sit next to her as Thog, Inien and Zalvetta spoke to each other.

At some point Inien had invited herself along on the journey. Ashe vaguely remembered resisting the idea but the witch had pointed out that no matter what Ashe did she could always just follow them. The Cavern of Time was very significant to the magic of the world, after all. She wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to see it.

Only once the sun had truly risen above the treetops did Ashe's mind return to some semblance of clarity. Markus was slowly getting up from where Thog had gently laid him down after he'd passed out and Kier had reluctantly removed his cape from over his eyes. Orange got up and trotted over to him, rubbing her head against his cheek to get him to move.

Ashe gathered herself and closed her hands about her ankle, sending a shock of power through it. As soon as that pain lessened she relaxed. She still felt bruised, tired and shaken but the worst pain was over. Cautiously she got to her feet and tested it but her work seemed steady and her ankle held. Charoth curled up against her. Since he'd woken up again he'd seemed reluctant to leave her side. Which was understandable but it tore a little at her heart that he'd had to go through what he had.

“Is everyone awake?” she asked, looking about.

“More or less.” Markus groaned, rubbing the side of his head. Thog glanced over to him.

“Morning sleeping beauty,” he said. “Welcome back to the world of the living.” Markus squinted at him, trying to figure out if he should take that as a compliment or an insult. Whatever it was he decided he seemed to think it warranted a wink in response before he went to help Kier to his feet.

Thog rolled his eyes at Ashe's _look_.

“Shut up,” he said quietly enough so only the two of them and Charoth could hear him.

“I will if you help me with a thing,” she replied equally as quietly. Thog's face in return said scandalized but his eyes reluctantly said impressed.

“I think I'm a bad influence on you,” he said. She rolled her eyes.

“Just follow me,” she said, heading towards where the forest picked up again. Soon the two of them were out of earshot and view of the group and Ashe found the closest suitable tree stump to sit down on.

Charoth sat on her knee, watching the forest around him and listening to its sounds. He seemed content, for the moment. Ashe lifted him up and reached him towards Thog. The Faerie almost took a step back, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Just hold him I need my hands free,” she said. Thog took the child and looked down at him as Ashe turned her back to them and began removing her light armour and her weapons.

“What do you need?” Thog asked. Ashe sighed and straightened somewhat, her back still to him.

“I need you to tell me if there's something wrong with my back,” she said. “To the extent that I need to heal it,” she further clarified. Thog settled Charoth more comfortably in his arms.

“OK,” he said. Ashe seemed to breath a small sigh of relief. She pulled up her tunic enough for him to see the three thin, almost invisible scars running down her back. Other than them there didn't seem to be anything wrong, some bruising but nothing that should make her legitimately concerned as far as Thog could tell.

Though his attention may have been somewhat divided. He could see more of her bindings now and, to his eyes, their power was almost blinding. Despite that, though, they didn't look right. There was something off about them. He couldn't put his finger on it, he'd never been particularly interested in learning about magic, but there was definitely something about them that made his skin crawl.

Whatever it was the Queen had bound to her it couldn't be comfortable. He was reluctantly impressed by her ability to wield the power she held at all. He hadn't seen her use it enough to know if she would ever be able to truly make it hers but something told him she was on the path to doing so. Though whether she would be able to get to that point before the shoddy bindings and the intense power destroyed her from the inside out he couldn't be sure.

He shook his head, trying to get himself out of that line of thought. He quickly found it wasn't an idea he liked to contemplate overly much. Instead he fixated back on the task at hand. Other than the worrying implications of her bindings and the power she held he could, at first, not really see anything wrong.

She shifted somewhat impatiently, tapping her fingers against the bark of the tree stump. He sighed and, taking a shot in the dark, he decided to focus on the thin scars.

“Where did you get these?” he asked.

“Get which?” she asked, sounding confused. Thog frowned.

“Three scars running down your back?” he said. “Look like they're from the gentlest fucking mauling in history.” Ashe tugged her tunic back down and turned to him, a look of complete confusion on her face.

“I've never had scars on my back,” she said.

“Well they're there now.” Thog half shrugged. Ashe reached around to her back to carefully search for what Thog was talking about. It was somewhat of a feat of flexibility but she did managed to get a general feel for this new feature she had not been aware of.

“He barely scratched me...” she muttered, thinking back to the Prison of Lights. Gregor had said the wounds were minor. But then again Gregor had a pretty lax attitude when it came to what construed a “minor injury”.

She readjusted her tunic and picked up her discarded armour and sword. Charoth reached for her as soon as she'd turned around and she gladly took him back. Thog gave her a look that was a little too searching for her liking as they walked back to camp together in a companionable silence.

***

Markus looked up as Thog and Ashe returned. Gregor and Zalvetta were nowhere to be seen, Kier was seated by the large rock with Orange curled up and purring contentedly in his lap. Inien was seated above him on top of the boulder, lazily surveying the camp.

Ashe frowned, somewhat confused by the apple Inien was lazily throwing from one hand to the other. Thog, on the other hand, immediately looked ready to bolt. Ashe raised an eyebrow but got her answer when Inien looked up and immediately flung the apple full force at Thog's face.

Thog seemed torn between ducking the apple and trying to catch it. The result was some flailing followed by swearing as the apple hit its target. Ashe laughed a startled laugh as Thog fell over backwards, holding his now bleeding nose.

“Your throwing arm's gotten stronger,” Thog muttered as he got slowly back to his feet.

“Or you haven't seen me in four years,” Inien suggested in a casual tone. Kier stared up at her, a confused look on his face.

“I thought you two were friends,” he said. Orange shoved her head against his hand in an effort to get him to continue petting her. When she didn't succeed she quickly jumped from his lap with all the air of, well, an offended cat, and went to brush up against Ashe's legs.

“We are,” Inien said.

“The apple is tradition,” Zalvetta spoke, dropping down out of one of the nearby trees. Gregor followed not long after on ground level. Inien nodded, pulling another apple out of her bag and this time throwing it only marginally less hard in Thog's direction.

Seeing the attack coming Thog caught the flying fruit with no trouble at all and pocketed it. Ashe and Markus shared a look. They both got the feeling there was more to the apple tradition than an old inside joke.

“Anyway now that you've almost broken my nose can we get back to business?” Thog asked, lowering his hand. Ashe, seeing her chance, grabbed his face and ran a short shock of power through him, healing the minimal damage the apple had done and stopping the bleeding.

It took only a second and when she drew back Thog looked mildly confused. He seemed to take a few moments to process that he was no longer bleeding, after which point he got back of track.

“Who has the map?” he asked. Markus stood up, dusting off his cape before snapping his fingers and making a familiar piece of parchment appear and drop into his hands. Ashe walked over and looked over his shoulder as he opened it.

At first it looked like a normal map but soon writing began to appear in the upper right corner, soon followed by a spot on the map being highlighted. She bit her lip and reached out her hand. Markus, getting the message, passed the map over to her.

She refocused on the information in the top corner. Beyond longitude, latitude and a short description of the current location of the Cavern there were two more crucial pieces of information. She frowned as she stared at the text, which seemed to her to be in Meathean.

_Estimated time of arrival: Three days_

_Time until relocation: Two days_

“Thog can you portal us to... five miles south of the Great Oak in the Grieving Forest?” she asked. Thog shook his head.

“I've never been there,” he said.

“And the Cavern blocks people trying to magically transport towards its location once they know it. Some kind of holier than thou shit about worthiness,” Inien added. Ashe sighed and looked back down at the map.

“So we wait two days for the map to reset,” Markus said. “That's not long.” Ashe rolled up the parchment and handed it back to Markus. Feeling slightly dispirited she readjusted her hold of Charoth and went to sit by the long since extinguished fire. Charoth curled up closer to her and she looked down at him, taking a short moment to marvel at how lucky she was that everyone was alive and well.

“Hey.” Markus sat down next to her.

She glanced briefly at him, making a soft noise in acknowledgement of his presence but not actually saying anything.

“I know you're getting impatient but it's just two days. We can wait that long,” he said gently. She sighed.

“Markus I've waited for seventeen years,” she said. Markus nodded solemnly.

“And now every little setback feels like you're wasting time. I get it.” He moved as if he was about to place his hand on her shoulder but thought better of it. “We'll get there.” She stared at the ashes of the previous night's fire without answering for a good while.

“I know,” she said eventually. “I know.”

***

Thog sat by the boulder that evening. Ashe, Markus, Kier and Gregor were by the once again lit fire. Markus was holding Charoth and the child was very content to listen as the adults talked amongst each other. Inien sat above him on the boulder, looking down at him. Zalvetta, he was pretty sure, was on the other side of the stone.

“So how have you two been doing without me?” Zalvetta asked. A seemingly light-hearted question but it carried weight behind it.

“Hoping back and forth between the human world and here.” Inien shrugged. “Or I was before Her Royal Majesty decided to put the Realm on lockdown.” She sounded considerably displeased about that. Thog sighed.

“Yeah I can understand tightening the barrier but the portals, too?” Zalvetta asked. “I mean I'm not too familiar with the politics but that seems a little excessive.” Thog shrugged.

“How the fuck should I know I was on the Shrouded Isles when she did it,” he said. Inien groaned and took off her hat so she could mess up her hair.

“The only way to get out right now are the troll doors,” she said. “And the only one of them that isn't jealously guarded by the mountain people is on Northall grounds.” She jumped down and began pacing back and forth.

“I have a life outside of here!” she finally exclaimed.

“Colvin's probably worried about where you are by now,” Zalvetta commented. Inien glared at him and jammed her hat angrily back on her head. Thog, however, was a little distracted by something she had mentioned.

“How do you know the other troll doors are open?” he asked. Inien stopped pacing and frowned at him.

“You had to get in somehow and if one's still open all of them should be,” she said, shrugging. Zalvetta stoop up, leaning his crossed arms on the boulder and looking at Inien.

“Not necessarily,” he said. “Isn't the troll door in Northall the one that leads through the Prison of Lights?” He briefly glanced over at Gregor and seemed to suppress a shiver. Thog ignored it. There had been no other way to get them into the Faerie Realm and Gregor had come out of it alive and well.

Inien sat down and looked over at the camp fire.

“So you and Moren didn't work out?” she asked. Thog choked on nothing as the completely unexpected question hit him out of nowhere.

“What?” he asked once he'd gotten his breath back. Inien raised an eyebrow.

“Last time I saw you you and Moren were dating,” she said in a tone that spoke clearly of how very not impressed she was with his reaction. Thog glared at her.

“I know that,” he said. “I mean how the fuck did you figure that out?” Inien shrugged.

“You don't act like someone in a relationship,” she said. Thog rolled his eyes.

“I'm not sure I ever did,” he said. It was only after the words had left his mouth that he realized he'd put too much weight behind them. Inien and Zalvetta both fixed their eyes on him and he leaned more heavily against the boulder, half wishing it would open up behind him and pull him into the earth.

“So you're not good with feelings. Thog, that's not news.” Inien stretched. “You've always been incredibly fucking clumsy with words.” Thog gave her a blank look.

“Yeah, like you can fucking talk,” he said. Zalvetta groaned quietly, letting his forehead fall onto his folded arms.

“None of us are good with feelings,” he said in an attempt to defuse the situation as quickly as possible. Inien climbed back up onto the boulder and discreetly tried to push his arms off it. He took a step back and sat down on his side of the boulder again.

They remained quiet for a moment, noting now that the talk by the fire had been exchanged for silence and the deep breaths of sleep in Gregor's case. Thog watched silently as Orange jumped off of Ashe's lap and began walking briskly towards him. Soon she had settled comfortably in his lap and it didn't look like she'd be moving any time soon.

“At least animals like you,” Inien commented idly. Thog rolled his eyes.

“Shut up,” he said with no venom as he began to pet Orange. She purred contentedly.

“Whatever you say, Dan.” Inien grinned. Thog tried very hard not to show how the use of that old nickname that used to annoy him made something in his chest twist painfully.

The familiarity of the three of them lounging around and not doing anything while talking about whatever came to mind, or not talking at all. It was a thing that Thog hadn't realized how much he'd missed.

***

Ashe was woken the next morning by a scratchy cat tongue liking her hand. As soon as she had sat up the cat ran back to Kier, curling up next to his thigh. She yawned and stretched, looking up at the sky and finding that dawn was only just breaking. She glared at the cat, who was more than happy to ignore her.

Tiredly she got to her feet and looked around. There had to be something she could do now that she was up. Because once she was up she was up, there was no changing that. She breathed in deeply and looked over to the river.

The thing that had almost been her death not long ago now looked peaceful and almost beautiful in the early light. She wandered quietly down along the bank, listening to the water and the bird song in the trees.

As she continued her path down the riverbank, she began to hear something odd over the sound of the rushing water and the chirp of birds greeting the morning. Like a handful of stones were being dropped from a short distance at regular intervals. Not long after she spotted Gregor. He sat by the bank, staring into the water as he repeatedly gathered a handful of the pebbled from the bank, and dropped them back down.

“Gregor?” she called, approaching slowly. He started and looked over to her, the handful of stones currently in his grip clattering onto the bank. She frowned, taking another step forwards and seating herself near but not very close to him. “Are you OK?” she asked. He blinked, a slight aura of confusion surrounding him.

“I'm fine!” he assured her with his usual smile, but she privately called bullshit. There was something off about his countenance, starting with that he hadn't noticed her approach.

“So what are you doing all the way out here?” she asked. The camp wasn't even visible from where they were and it had taken her a good ten minutes to reach this place at a leisurely pace. Gregor paused, a small frown crossing his face.

“I-” he stopped, frown deepening somewhat. He struggled for a moment, trying to find an answer, but ultimately he remained silent. Ashe sighed softly and leaned back, using her arms to support herself.

They sat in silence for a moment before Gregor resumed picking up and dropping down pebbles. The sound was actually somewhat calming and Ashe would in all likelihood have found her mind drifting slightly had she not been so keenly aware that this was not the kind of behaviour she'd come to expect from Gregor.

When he spoke again it was so abruptly that she almost jumped, but what he said made her come down from any startled feelings she had very quickly. “It's OK to miss them, right?”

She didn't really have to ask who “them” was. She knew enough, not everything perhaps -she somehow doubted even Markus or Zalvetta knew _everything_ \- but she knew enough.

“Why wouldn't it be?” she asked. Again, Gregor faltered. He picked at the pebbles in his hand and avoided looking in Ashe's direction. She shifted somewhat and cast about for something to say. What could she say, really?

“Talking's supposed to help.” Zalvetta seemed to appear out of nothing behind them. Ashe jumped, only just managing to stop herself from scrambling away. Gregor let the pebbles drop to the ground again as Zalvetta sat down next to him.

“What's there to talk about? They're dead.” He continued to poke at the pebbles on the shore. Ashe and Zalvetta looked at each other.

“Do you have any stories? Memorable things from when they were alive?” Ashe asked. Gregor seemed to consider that for a moment. He leaned back slightly and looked up at the sky, his face spoke clearly of the thought he was putting into this.

When he opened his mouth again it was to talk about the kids around his age. About battles, and talks by the fireside. Ashe would be lying if she said some of the things he talked about like they were normal didn't make her worry, but that wasn't the point. Not this time. So for as long as he needed, she and Zalvetta sat in silence and let him talk.

***

Thog took a deep breath, leaning back against the closest tree. Quietly he drew the apple Inien had thrown at him without killing intent yesterday. He stared at it where it rested in the palm of his hand, looking completely innocent.

“OK Thog what's going on?” Markus' voice made him jump and almost drop the fruit in his hand. His heart leapt into his throat for a second before he managed to secure it.

“I'm sorry I didn't mean to-” Marus stopped. “Since when do you get startled?” he asked. Thog sighed and looked down at the apple again.

“None of your fucking business,” he muttered, shoving his way past Markus and back towards camp. Markus frowned at Thog's retreating back. Shoving down emotional turmoil almost never ended well and Thog was practically a walking pile of misery, it would seem.

“I've got to admit I missed that asshole,” Inien spoke from behind him. Markus blinked and turned, somewhat surprised by her sudden presence.

“How do you know him?” he asked. Inien regarded him carefully for a second before answering.

“I spent ten years in Northall,” she said. “Before the Queen exiled me.” Markus looked from her to where Thog had vanished towards the camp.

“I see,” he said thoughtfully. There were multiple ways he could envision that going down. None of them were good for any of the people involved.

***

Come evening everyone had gathered back at camp. The feeling in the air was not one of happy camaraderie, though. Most everyone seemed to be depressed in some way or another and those who weren't were falling into to the sullen atmosphere quite easily. Markus had every shield he knew of up and he was still getting washed with a veritable tsunami of sorrow, agitation and anxiety.

In any other situation he would have gotten up and fled into the forest to calm himself but right now three of their number needed him to be there for them. Needed Kier, Zalvetta, Inien and himself to show them that they weren't alone and that the past was the past.

An idea struck him and swiftly he pulled out his guitar and began tuning it. The people around the fire raised their head to look at him but he kept at his task until it was done.

“Seems like a good night for singing,” he commented before he began to play a familiar tune. Or it was familiar to him, an old folksong of Tannhauser sung every spring festival. It was an old legend, older than the royal palace some said.

 

 _Oh I know the moon is shining_  
_And I know the town is singing_  
_But mother I cannot join them  
_ _on this fairest festival night_  

 _For my lover he awaits me_  
_by the cold shores of the wild sea_  
_He waits for my return to him  
_ _he has the chance to set me free_

 _Oh mother dear please do not weep_  
_his gentle hands my heart now keep_  
_You raised me well but I must go  
_ _or lose my heart and my lover dear_

 _He will not wait past the dawning_  
_and the nights are quickly waning_  
_I need to hurry now my steps  
_ _lest spring's dawn steal my love_

 _So I won't go to the fire_  
_and I won't dance in the square_  
_Hold the festival without me  
_ _for I will never meet you there_

 _A sea folk lord now holds my heart_  
_I need not the horse nor the cart_  
_I go on foot to be his groom  
_ _beneath the sea's roaring waves_

 _Dear mother please don't mourn me_  
_for beneath the moon and by the sea_  
_I will begin a life of joy  
_ _just me and my sea lord's love_

 

As the song drew to a close he opened his eyes, having realised that at some point he had closed them. Ashe was looking at him with a softly inquisitive look. He shrugged.

“Just something from my old home,” he said.

“I've never heard this one before,” Gregor commented, sitting up a little straighter. Markus plucked the strings of his guitar in a lazy manner as he pondered why that could be. It was one of his favourite old songs from Tannhauser.

“It's a translated version,” Markus said. “It's not nearly as good in Common as it is in Tannish.” He leaned back somewhat and observed the people around him. The air had lightened considerably and he even spotted a few smiles here and there.

They spent the rest of the evening talking about languages, cultural traditions and sharing old ballads. Ashe sang a song in what Markus assumed must have been Meathean. He could not understand the words but the language was beautiful and the tune was nice.

Gregor shared a low, deep chanting song and spoke of war and blood and victory in a language foreign to all who were gathered. He raised his hand to his chest as he did so, to the place that Markus recognized as holding his Outrider brand. He and Zalvetta glanced at each other, concerned for a moment but the song seemed to bring Gregor comfort instead of more sorrow.

Long into the night they continued as the fire died low. Even Thog shared an old Alarani working song that had not been heard for hundreds of years. Though his voice was not one for singing great ballads or for the singing or the Faeries beneath a full moon, it lent itself well to the simple rhythm and tune of a working song.

They let time slip away from them and so it was far past midnight when they finally decided it might be time to go to sleep when Gregor fell asleep on Zalvetta's shoulder.

***

The rest of their wait for the map to reset turned out to be mostly uneventful. The morning of the reset, however, they woke to a downpour. Markus with some help from Inien threw up a barrier to protect them and their things from the rain while everyone else packed up camp and gathered around the map.

It glowed briefly, the point of the current location for the Cavern travelling up north, circling a couple times before finally landing in a valley. Thog cursed silently but waited for the map to give them the rest of the information before making any snap judgements.

 _Estimated time of arrival: June 1_ _st_

_Time until relocation: Two months and five days_

Ashe recounted the days in her head and made out the current date to be the 11th of May. They had plenty of time, then. She nodded contentedly and rolled up the map, throwing it to Markus, who promptly put it back in whatever storage dimension he used.

“There's a problem,” Thog said as soon as the map was out of sight. “That road takes us through the mountains to the north.” Markus immediately paled. Ashe frowned, quietly trying to figure out what was so bad about the mountains. Zalvetta sighed.

“As far as I can see there's nothing we can do about that,” he said. “We'll just have to head north unless we want to wait another two months.” Ashe bit her lip and looked at Charoth where he sat in his nest of blankets. He looked a little restless, no doubt sensing her eagerness to be off again.

“I can't do that,” she said.

“Correction,” Markus said. “ _We_ can't do that.” She smiled a small smile as she stood, picking up Charoth and settling him in his sling. He curled up against her, using her as another way to keep warm in the cold and wet weather. She patted his head gently before throwing her unneeded bag at Markus who caught it and sent it away with a snap of his fingers.

“Lets go then!” Gregor said, already outside of the rain barrier and looking somewhat like a soaked puppy. Zalvetta sighed but Ashe could have sworn she saw a fond smile on his face for just a second before he drew up the hood of the dark robe outfit he had produced from seemingly nowhere when they woke up.

Markus dismissed his part of the barrier as soon as everyone, including Gregor who they'd managed to get dry again, had their rain cloaks on.

The rain came down hard and fast. It was the kind of rain that hammered plants into the ground and stopped travellers from speaking to each other because they just couldn't yell loud enough. By the time it was mid-day they were all exhausted and wet, despite the rain cloak's valiant efforts to keep them safe from the rain.

Markus collapsed against a nearby tree, breathing heavily. His legs were shaking and he probably couldn't go a step further without rest. None of them could. Zalvetta sat down, trying to catch his breath. He looked almost like he was in pain. Gregor frowned, walking up to his partner and gently pulling him off to the side.

Thog glanced towards them for a brief second before seeming to decide on something and going to join them. Ashe ignored them in favour of collapsing into the rain barrier Markus and Inien were putting up.

***

Thog sighed and ran a hand over his face. Zalvetta was often too stubborn for his own good and this was definitely one of those cases. The pint sized ninja glared defiantly at him.

“Zalvetta you're going to hurt yourself,” Gregor pleaded. Zalvetta winced but kept his ground. Thog groaned and wondered if he'd ever been this difficult. He didn't have to wonder long, thinking back he had absolutely been this difficult and Inien had every right to be annoyed with him.

“How about this,” Thog said, “turn into a cat. Then you won't have to be in human form and Gregor can carry you.” Zalvetta hesitated for a second before his form began to twist and shrink. As soon as his transformation was complete he climbed up Gregor's form to hide from the rain in the hood of his cloak.

“Thank, Thog,” Gregor said with real relief and gratitude in his voice. “It usually takes a lot longer to convince him to take care of himself.” Zalvetta made an unamused sound from inside the hood and his tail gently hit Gregor in the face. Thog nodded.

“I'm not a stranger to binding injuries,” he said. “And I'd prefer it if my friends could learn from my mistakes instead of being stubborn bastards,” he added. Gregor laughed even as Zalvetta protested.

Thog turned to look at the main camp just in time to see Kier get up and walk to the edge of the rain barrier and try to call to them. Suffice it to say they could not hear him but assumed he was asking them to come back by the plates of hot food that had been passed around to the others already.

They were right and once inside the barrier they were greeted by the smell of fried potatoes and vegetable stew. They ate in relative silence as the rain continued to fall, not seeming willing to stop for anything. Zalvetta stayed curled up on Gregor's shoulders even after the cloaks had been hung up to dry.

***

It was a few hours later as they prepared to continue the tiring journey through the rain that Kier spotted lights through the trees.

“Um, hey guys I think I see something,” he said, pointing through the trees. Ashe turned and tried her best to see through the rain. Indeed, there a little further into the trees the lights of a village were flickering.

“This reeks of a mischievous spirit's trickery,” Inien said, eyeing the lights suspiciously. Thog focused his attention towards the village for a moment but it was real. There was no illusion or glamour on the area.

“It's a real village,” he said. Ashe frowned, glancing up at the sky and down to Charoth, who was looking completely miserable.

“This seems a little suspicious, right?” she asked the group. Markus scratched his chin in thought before shrugging.

“I can't say I'd mind having a roof over my head right now,” he said. Gregor nodded.

“And if they're hostile we're pretty strong,” he pointed out. Zalvetta made a sound that was somewhat akin to a laugh, rubbing his head affectionately against Gregor's cheek.

They collectively decided that trying the village might end in disaster but that they were tired and that they wanted to get out of the rain enough to risk it. The village ended up being just that, a small collection of houses past the trees.

No one was moving about the streets, but that was hardly a surprise given how hard the rain was coming down. They soon found their way to an old inn and Ashe knocked on the door.

An old woman with a kindly face and twinkling green eyes opened it and surveyed them with considerable surprise.

“Oh hello dears,” she said. “It's been quite a time since I've seen travellers in this neck of the woods. Would you like to come in?” She stepped back, allowing them inside. Ashe hesitated for a moment but followed her friends into the warmth.

It was amazing to step into an actually warm space after the day they had had. Charoth yawned widely and started to nod off almost immediately and Ashe had to admit she wanted to follow his example. There was something about this place that just lent itself well to rest.

Which she supposed was good for business given that is was an inn.

“And how many rooms will you be wanting?” the old woman asked. Ashe turned and counted out the party quickly.

“Six,” she replied. The old lady nodded, walking behind the counter to retrieve the keys.

“Will you be wanting supper?” she asked. Thog levelled her a flat look.

“How fucking naive do you think we are?” he asked. True he and Zalvetta may not be affected by eating food from the Faerie Realm but most of the party wasn't originally from the Realm and the rules still applied.

“Oh my, forgive me. Some of you are outsiders, how silly of me.” She smiled warmly. “And I seem to have quite forgotten my manners, oh dear me. I am called Hildrun.” The group looked at each other before introducing themselves. Quite noticeably, though, no one gave their full name. Not even Markus and he was notorious for being reckless with such things.

Orange finally emerged from her hiding place of under Kyr's cape, where she had been holed up all day. She looked around carefully or a moment before running over to a table in the corner and jumping up via the chairs to sit on it.

Ashe took her own room key and moved up the stairs to find a place where Charoth could sleep undisturbed. To her surprise when she opened her room there was a cradle in the corner. She walked up to it, somewhat suspicious, but it was nothing more than an ordinary cradle. Sighing she gently laid Charoth down in it. Even in his sleep he quickly burrowed into the soft pillows and seemed incredibly content.

Satisfied that he was safe and probably wouldn't be waking any time soon Ashe headed back down stairs. The rest of the group had settled at the table in the corner. She headed over even as the door opened and who she could only assume was another resident of the time.

“Evening Hildrun!” he said jovially. “I see we have guests.” His eyes turned to the group and Ashe resisted the urge to shiver. Maybe it was just her but anyone being immediately welcoming and warm to strangers was suspicious.

“What are these people?” she asked. Zalvetta jumped neatly off of Gregor's shoulders and morphed back to his human from.

“I don't know,” he said. “I can't get a read on them. They don't seem to have nightmares.” He looked at the friendly innkeeper. Ashe sighed.

“Can you keep watch tonight? We'll leave first thing in the morning,” she said. Zalvetta nodded before morphing back to cat form and reassuming his place on Gregor's shoulders.

When the rest of the party went to rest that evening Zalvetta made to quietly exit out the window and take watch.

“Sleep well, Gregor,” he said.

Gregor laughed. “You know I don't do that,” he said. Zalvetta sighed and turned, pulling Gregor in for a quick kiss.

“I know,” he said, his fingers brushing gently over Gregor's cheek. The fighting man smiled and kissed his forehead before taking a step back.

“Goodnight, Zalvetta,” he said. Zalvetta nodded before quickly slinking out the window and taking his place on the roof, trying to ignore how unsettling it felt that no one save the man in the room right bellow him seemed to be having a troubled sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you will excuse me I need to go sleep for a century. Also if you're re-reading this after April 15th, 2017, you might notice some things are a little different. Otherwise, hi, welcome, you're reading a version I'm happier with.
> 
> Thank you and goodnight. Blame the TI discord for the apples.


	13. Chapter XIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which shit goes down and no one is safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reason this took so long to get out is TI Week, which was fun but time consuming. Anyway I'm back now and as evil as ever.

Ashe could barely breathe. Her chest felt tight and heavy, like a weight had settled upon it that she could not move. She opened her eyes to darkness so complete that she could not see her hand in front of her face. She shook her head, trying to get some kind of sense of where she was in space and time.

When that failed she felt around, putting her trust in her other senses. It took a few more seconds for her to realise that she was lying down. The cold stone beneath her was hard and unforgiving. She sat up slowly, the weight on her chest still present somehow, though she seemed to have free range of movement.

She focused on trying to regain her breath for a moment but found it useless. Her breathing remained short, her head swimming slightly as she began to feel around herself in the darkness. She dared not get to her feet just yet, unsure of how high up the ceiling was and not wanting to hit her head.

She continued to try to get a feel of where she was when her hand landed on something with a disgusting squelch. She yelped and scrambled back, her hand sticky with something that felt a disheartening lot like blood.

As her sense of smell caught up with the rest of her she got confirmation of her fears. The sickening stench of blood was so thick in the air it made breathing hard and brought a wave of nausea down over her. She steeled herself before reaching out again.

She found the body she had previously touched pretty easily. Even in the darkness she could judge that this person was not alive. A stomach wound seemed to be the fatal blow. A bad one at that. For a moment a memory pricked at the corners of her mind but she chased it away. She had more important things to focus on.

She was about to move on when her fingers brushed across something that made her freeze. A chest plate. But not as covering as a chest plate usually would be.

She took as much of a steadying breath as she could manage. Coincidence. It was a coincidence, it had to be. Still she searched further and her heart sank steadily. The odd shape was far too familiar. The way it only connected over one shoulder and left the abdomen open to attacks was unmistakable.

With shaking hands she continued, trying to find something that would lay her fears to rest.

Hair. She tried to take a deep breath but the weight on her chest saw fit to remind her that that was an impossibility. She shook herself and reached for approximately where the hair should be.

Her heart dropped as she found herself running her fingers over a long ponytail. A very long and very familiar ponytail.

“No,” her voice was weak, a faint protest in the dark against something she could not see and did not want to believe.

As if triggered by that faint whisper a soft clattering could be heard out of the darkness. She turned her head sharply in its direction and saw a light moving towards her.

The lantern rolled up to her and illuminated the shape of Gregor, laying in a crumpled heap on the cold stone floor. With a sickening lurch she realised she _recognised_ this scene. Or one very, very much like it.

“ _I can't smell anything is that bad?_ ”

She shuddered violently.

This couldn't be right. Something had to be off. It couldn't be real. They'd gotten out of the Prison of Lights. She'd saved Gregor, he'd survived. The weight on her chest doubled as if in reaction to her thoughts.

She tried desperately to pull air into her lungs only to feel them fill up with water. A weight around her ankle pulled her slowly further away from the glimmering surface above her. She looked down to see nothing but inky darkness slowly rising to swallow her.

“ _You will spend your entire life caring for that_ thing _and in the end it will be pointless_ ,” familiar words of poison hissed through her mind. With her father's voice ringing in her ears she tried to struggle against the weight pulling her down further into the dark even as her consciousness started to fade. She looked up towards the ever fading light, reaching towards it desperately and-

She woke with a start, eyes flying open.

“Fuck you're persistent,” the creature sitting on her chest spoke. She stared at it, for the moment utterly lost for words. It sat there, hunched up glaring down at her, its face more bestial than human. Its sharp ears twitched and it growled. She immediately recognized it as a Mare in its truest form.

She tried to move, to shove it off of herself and free herself from its power but found herself unable to move.

“This is going to be a problem,” the Mare sat back and regarded her. “Not to mention you bringing that _half breed_ into town.” It made a face that clearly showed its disgust as Zalvetta's state of being.

“Get off me,” she said as evenly as she could manage. It gave her an incredulous look.

“Why would I do that?” it asked. “You can't do anything and as soon as I let you go you'll go warn your friends. Seems to me that I need to stay right where I am.”

Ashe closed her eyes and concentrated. The Mare's eyes widened as a green, swirling energy began to form not far from the bed.

With a great noise of stone grinding against stone a hand rose from the depths of the swirling pool and reached towards the Mare. The hand of moss and stone moved fast, faster than one would have expected of something that size.

One moment the Mare was still on Ashe's chest, staring in shock at the hand, the next thing anyone knew it had been flung into the wall, hard enough to render it immobile. Ashe half suspected it was dead but honestly at that very moment she didn't care.

She got quickly out of bed as the hand of moss and stone sank back into nothingness and the pool of energy it has risen from vanished. She had been on her feet for only a second when her knees buckled beneath her. The world swam before her eyes, darkening at the corners.

Alarmed, she clutched at the bedside table to keep herself some sort of upright. Summoning the hand had never been _easy_ but this had never happened before. She shook herself, finding her movements to be sluggish and clumsy. Her arms shook as she tried to steady herself, her back burned as if claws were digging into her skin. Her entire body convulsed and she lost her steadying grip, sending her tumbling onto the floor.

How long she lay there she couldn't be sure. Her approximation of time was distorted by her brain feeling like it was swimming around it fog.

Her vision started to clear about when the arm that had ended up beneath her began to go to sleep. She shook her head to try and clear it fully and slowly shifted.

She stretched carefully, ignoring the low, throbbing ache in her upper back for now. She had more important matters to attend to and she was not overly eager to try using her powers again. Once she judged herself steady enough to stand she made her way slowly to Charoth's cot.

She breathed out a soft sigh of relief when she found him still there and looking to be completely unharmed. He stared up at her with large, worried eyes. She smiled softly and reached down towards him. He quickly caught on to her hand and held tight, unwilling to let go.

“I'm all right,” she assured him quietly. He clung tighter. She sighed and gently lifted him out of his cot. She didn't want to take him with her when she went to find and quite likely save her friends but she didn't want to leave him behind either. Both options were dangerous, quite possibly life threatening.

She glanced at the limp figure of the Mare that had attacked her. Reflexively she hugged Charoth closer to herself. He clung to her tunic, making it very clear to her in his own way that he did _not_ want to be left behind.

With a soft sigh she made her choice. She looked around the room and her eyes fixed on the darkest corner. There she made a nest for him out of the darkest fabrics she could find. He tried to cling to her as she settled him in the cocoon but she gently removed his hands from her tunic.

“I'll be back as soon as I can I promise. Please try not to go back to sleep.” She truly hoped he could understand what she said and would stay awake and hidden until she could come back for him. She was far from happy with the arrangement but she couldn't be sure of his safety were she to take him with her.

She couldn't be sure of his safety now either but she had no one she could leave to guard him and she needed to make sure her friends were safe. She leaned down and kissed Charoth's forehead before getting to her feet and looking about the room.

Working quickly she gathered up her weapons and her armour. She pulled the knife she'd stashed under her pillow out with a slightly bitter chuckle. That had turned out to be completely useless. Almost as an afterthought she glanced to the still immobile Mare. With a quick, almost clinical movement, she plunged her knife into its neck. Just to be sure.

Once she was fully armed and had cleaned off her knife again she breathed out slowly to collect herself. As quietly as she could she made her way to the door. When pressing her ear against it revealed no noise in the hallway outside she carefully pushed down the handle, wincing as the hinges whined in protest against her opening the door.

The corridor outside was dark and silent but if Zalvetta was anything to go by she couldn't trust that.There was at least a possibility that she was not alone. Carefully she slipped out, knife tightly gripped in one hand, the other ready to draw her sword at a moment's notice.

She reached the door of Kier's room without much trouble. Quickly she opened it and slipped in. Before she even had time to see the situation she heard it. Orange hissing and a low, condescending chuckle in response.

She turned to see the cat, standing defiantly on Kier's chest, making herself seem as big as she could, facing down the Mare who was looking rather amused. It was clear to Ashe that, no matter how valiant Orange's efforts, she could not stand up to the Mare. Not once it truly began its attack anyway.

Ashe closed the door behind her with an audible click.

The Mare started and turned to look at her, an alarmed look crossing its face. It looked about the room and began diving for the window. Ashe grit her teeth and sprang forwards, drawing her sword as she did so.

The Mare ducked out of the way just in the nick of time. Ashe spun quickly to follow it only to find herself face to face with it. Claws raked across her light armour, damaging it but not getting through.

She saw her opportunity and took it, the next moment the Mare was lying dead at her feet, her sword in its chest. She took a moment to just breathe before taking back her sword. She glanced over at Kier and frowned when she realised he hadn't shifted at all during the short, but not precisely quiet, fight.

She knew he was a heavy sleeper but this was mildly ridiculous. She walked over to him and shook his shoulder. He groaned and turned over, causing Orange to meow in protest as she was caught in a hug.

“Kier!” Ashe hissed. “Get. Up.” He turned back over and blinked up at her, obviously not even half awake. He glanced over at the window and saw the moon in its first quarter still high in the night sky.

“Wha-?” he shook his head. “Ashe?” He squinted up at her like he wasn't entirely sure if he was seeing right. Though who else it could be -considering she was the only one in the group with white hair and glowing eyes- she didn't really see.

Kier sat up and looked around the room, his eyes soon coming to rest on the dead Mare in the corner. Immediately he seemed to wake up, sitting up straighter.

“Ashe... what is that?” he asked. Ashe glanced back at it.

“A Mare,” she said. Kier blinked and looked at the thing again, the look of alarm in his eyes switching out for something more analytical. He got to his feet and walked over to the corpse, crouching down next to it.

“I wonder what properties Mare fur has...” he muttered under his breath.

“Later,” Ashe said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Listen, I left Charoth in my room. Please go back and protect him while I go find the others.” Kier frowned for a second.

“Are you sure? I'm not the best at fighting,” he said. Ashe smiled weakly.

“You're better at it than you think. Please, Kier, just go protect my brother. I trust you.” He still looked hesitant but she left no room for any more protest as she turned on her heel and left the room before he could say anything.

She hurried her steps as much as she could without making too much noise.

In Markus' room she found a scene she'd rather have avoided but Markus had no one to protect him so it was only natural he would be at the mercy of the Mare. He was crying, small, broken whimpers as his frame shuddered and shook as much as the Mare would allow.

She didn't want to think what kind of visions it was giving him.

As quietly as she could she began to creep towards the bed. The Mare was distracted by its work and so didn't notice her approach, she could use this to her advantage. She moved quickly, striking the Mare in the back of the head with the pommel of her sword.

It fell limp and tumbled off its perch on Markus' chest much like a rag-doll. Markus sprang up in an instant, his eyes wide and his hair a tangled mess. His breathing was ragged and his eyes darted about frantically, not truly seeing the world around him, still caught by the terror of the nightmare.

“I'm not going back, I'm not, I'm not you can't- I'm not,” his whispers were a quiet, hurried jumble of words that Ashe almost couldn't understand. A painful-sounding sob forced its way out of his throat. Ashe crouched down.

“Markus?” she asked softly. He flinched, scrambling back as far as he could without falling off the bed. For a few seconds everything in the room was quiet as he shook, trying to make himself smaller and less noticeable. “Markus it's me, it's Ashe. I'm not going to hurt you.”

His breathing hitched but he looked up slowly, his face half hidden by the wild tangles of his hair. They stared at each other in silence for a long, drawn out second that felt like hours. Slowly Markus began to uncurl from his defensive position.

“Ashe?” his voice sounded rough and raw. Ashe breathed out a soft sigh of relief.

“Yeah, yeah I'm right here,” she assured him.

“ _L_ _u_ _shel_ _c_ _ai_ _Ai_ _dur._ ” His head fell back against the headboard as he muttered something in a language Ashe didn't quite recognize. He looked relieved as he slid further down the headboard.

“It's not real.” He almost laughed. “It was just a nightmare.”

“Are you ok?” Ashe asked tentatively. He turned to her, sitting up straighter. His eyes were red and his hair still a mess but he looked considerably better.

“I will be,” he assured her. “Can I... hug you?”

She hesitated for just a second before nodding. He quickly latched onto her and only then did she notice the slight shaking that remained. She returned the hug, quietly rubbing soothing circles on his back until the last remnants of his shaking subsided. She wondered at, but decided not to ask about, the outline of a pair of very small bat-like wings she thought she had felt.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Ashe thank you so- … You're bleeding,” he said, detaching himself from her and looking at her, a worried frown on his brow.

“What?”

“You reek of blood,” he said, getting to his feet and walking around to look at her back. “Ashe you've bled through your tunic how didn't you notice this?”

“I've been a little preoccupied,” she said, gesturing to the unconscious Mare on the other side of the bed. The pain she had been resolutely ignoring stubbornly made itself known again. She bit her lip but couldn't stop the pained hiss from escaping through her teeth.

“Ashe this looks... kind of bad,” Markus frowned. “Can you heal it?” Ashe winced. Her mind returned to the effect summoning the hand of moss and stone had had on her, and the burning pain in her back which now made some sort of sense.

“No,” she said with more of an edge to her voice than she had intended. Markus frowned but decided not to question her further, something for which she was grateful. They had other things to focus on at the moment.

“I'm counting on that you'll explain later, for now will you at least let me do a quick patch job?”

“Could you?” she asked, a genuine request rather than a questioning of Markus' skill.

“Sure thing,” he replied easily.

They were silent for the remaining time as Markus bandaged her wounds. He didn't question how she'd gotten them and she honestly wouldn't have been able to tell him. She was still trying to figure that one out herself. She suspected the answer would have something to do with the hand of moss and stone, which only further cemented her unwillingness to talk about it.

Once Markus had done his best to make sure she wouldn't grow weak or even die from blood loss they moved on. He stuck close behind her as they approached Thog's door. She reached for the handle and began to push it down but before she could fully open it it was yanked out of her grip and opened from the other side.

Thog stood there, his eyes wide, his wings were visible and shaking. He looked vaguely like he was going to be sick. As soon as he saw them he stood somewhat straighter, the forced composure on his face somewhat ruined by the continued shaking of his wings and the way his gaze remained trained on the ground.

“I'm alive,” Thog said, his voice hoarse and weak. His eyes snapped up from the floor to stare at the two of them. “This is real, right? Tell me this is real! This isn't just another fucking nightmare?” His grip on the door frame tightened. Markus and Ashe both took a step forwards at the same time.

“Thog this is very real,” Markus said gently. Ashe lifted Thog's hand and placed her fingers lightly on the inside of his wrist.

“Yeah you're alive,” she said. Thog rolled his eyes but there was a thankful feeling behind the gesture. He breathed out slowly and his wings vanished from sight again. He shook himself and stood to his full height.

“Let me grab my gun. I want to get the bastard that made me-” he stopped, his face clearly showing his irritation. While he wanted to project merely irritation, Ashe wagered she'd known him long enough now to trust her eyes when they told her there was real, genuine fear beneath that mask.

She also did not miss that the Mare in Thog's room had gotten away. That could be a real problem. At least they had caught the unconscious one in Markus' room in a spell meant to keep it there.

Thog returned not long after, his gun loaded and a murderous look on his face. The three of them continued down the hall towards Inien's room in silence, all prepared for a fight. Markus' waggled his fingers as Ashe drew her sword.

She opened the door quietly and peeked inside. Then she groaned and kicked it the rest of the way open, levelling a glare in Inien's direction. The witch was calmly sitting on her bed, a Mare glaring at her angrily from a pile of some sticky black substance Ashe suspected might be tar.

“What took you so long?” Inien asked, looking up at the three of them.

“What the fuck, Inien?” Thog asked, staring at her.

“You were awake this whole time?” Ashe demanded angrily. Inien got up and stretched.

“True. But I've had my own problem to deal with,” she gestured to the trapped Mare. Markus walked over to it and experimentally poked the black goo.

“She's right this is fresh,” he said, looking up at Thog and Ashe.

“Thank you, Markus,” Inien said. Ashe closed her eyes briefly to collect herself before straightening.

“Fine. Fine, ok. Lets just go.” She turned on her heel and marched out of Inien's room.

***

Zalvetta paced back and forth restlessly on the roof. His fur stood on end and his ears straining to hear anything out of the ordinary. He kept a tight lock on his mental connection to Gregor's restless dreams, the one thing he could truly call normal in this freaky town. He sat down, his tail twitching back and forth restlessly as he watched and listened, Gregor's nightmares a constant buzzing companion in the back of his head.

When it happened it was so abrupt he almost lost his balance. His connection to Gregor's sleeping mind cut off so quickly and violently there was a moment of complete confusion. Like a stretched out rubber band had snapped and the end he'd been holding had bounced back to hit him.

Once the moment of complete mental imbalance wore off he abruptly jumped to his feet, not even realising he had already shifted back to his most human form. Everything clicked into place and he cursed himself for not realising it sooner.

He was half Mare, he of all people should be able to recognize when he was among other Mares. But then he had never truly known any other Mare so perhaps he could be forgiven. Once he'd made sure Gregor and the others were all right. He began to move towards Gregor's window only to feel a hand close around his collar and yank him back forcefully.

“That boy in there,” a voice whispered in his ear as he struggled against the powerful grip of the person behind him. “He makes you weak, distracts you. Which I suppose is good for me but I do have to wonder how you could be so foolish.” Zalvetta struggled for breath as his captor tightened his shirt collar around his neck in an effort to strangle him.

In an instant he moved from the shape of a human to the shape of a cat. Surprised by the speed of his transformation his captor didn't have time to tighten their grip before he'd slipped away. His entire body protested every step, his bones ached and his joints cracked. He'd forgotten just how god-awful hurried transformations could be.

He turned his head to look at his captor. Even in her more nightmarish form he recognized the innkeeper. She was walking towards him calmly, no doubt counting on the weakened state he was in to give her an upper hand. Of course she didn't know him, so she could be forgiven that mistake, though it didn't mean he'd go easy on her.

“Come now,” Hildrun said in a gently chiding voice that made Zalvetta's skin crawl. “Why don't you show me what you _really_ look like? If you can even transform back right now.” He flinched, a familiar sick feeling rising in his throat.

“If you insist,” he spat as he felt his form begin to shift. His body screamed in protest as his form grew once again to his most human. But it didn't stop there,his ears elongated into sharp points, his teeth grew larger and more like an animal's, his hands grew more claw-like in shape as he grinned through the pain. His eyes flashed for a moment before the whites seemed to vanish as the iris grew until his eyes were entirely hazel, his pupils mere pinpricks. His hair grew thicker and slightly longer, spreading down his neck and back to his arms.

“Disgusting. What were your parents thinking?” Hildrun shook her head. Zalvetta snarled. He recognized the pity she was sending his way and he did not much appreciate it. He lunged at her, sickle blades drawn and ready to kill.

She ducked out of his way easily enough. His movements were somewhat slowed by everything, from his skin to his bones, screaming at him that he should not have done what he had done. Hildrun caught his arm in a vice-like grip, pulling him up until their faces were level. His shoulder screamed in protest but he remained outwardly stoic.

“Well, child, looks like we've got you,” she said. He glared at her, raising his free hand to bring one of his sickle blades into her side. She caught his wrist and squeezed, trying to make him release it. He winced involuntarily as something popped and his hand went limp, the blade clattering uselessly onto the tiled roof.

He growled and in a move that made him regret ever being born he raised his legs and kicked her, hard. Her grip on him loosened and she stumbled back. He managed with minimal stumbling to avoid falling onto his back.

Before she had a chance to regain her footing he darted forwards and brought his remaining blade down into her chest. She had barely enough time to make a sound before her eyes went blank.

“Don't underestimate me,” he hissed through his teeth as she collapsed onto the tiles of the roof. As she did so Zalvetta's ears pricked at a noise coming from Ashe's room. Like stone grinding on stone, followed quickly by a sound of something hard impacting something soft and a sickening crack.

He had no time to contemplate that, however, as his senses made him aware of a second figure on the roof with him. He whirled to face a second Mare, who was only a few feet away from him, ready to defend himself. His eyes widened as he came face-to-face with the wrong end of of a bow. He began to duck out of the way but the arrow loosened before he had the chance to get fully to safety.

It struck his shoulder harder than he had expected and he lurched backwards, falling onto the sloping roof. He flung out his good arm to to catch himself. He scrambled, trying to dig his claws into the tiles of the roof as his fall picked up speed.

His breath caught in his throat as he felt the roof fall out from under him. Or rather he slid fully off the roof. For a single, frozen moment he seemed to hang in mid-air. The world seemed to slow for that one moment before picking up terrifying, gut-wrenching speed as he began to plummet towards the street below.

***

Ashe was the first into Gregor's room and her heart dropped into her boots at what she found there. Gregor was screaming in a language she didn't know but vaguely recognized as some dialect of Renalean. Even in his sleep, even paralysed as he was so the Mare could keep its perch, he looked like he was fighting desperately against something.

To her dismay he sounded like he was in pain. Thog took a step forwards and pulled his gun from its holster. One shot later the Mare had toppled to the ground. Gregor's eyes sprang open but he didn't seem to properly take in the world around him.

His eyes came to rest on them and abruptly he jumped back, pressing himself up against the wall, one of his hands reaching, seeking for his glaive without sight as his eyes remained fixed on them, wide and terrified.

Thog glared at the Mare with undisguised rage.

“Gregor?” Ashe asked tentatively. He flinched and tried to get further away from her despite already being pressed up against the wall. Ashe looked at Markus, a quiet plea for help in her eyes. He looked as lost for what to do as she felt.

“What did you see?” Markus muttered under his breath, a question Gregor couldn't answer, not in his current state at any rate, and a question no one else had any way to resolve.

“Gregor can you hear me?” Markus asked, trying to keep his voice steady. Gregor's response was a frantic string of words in that same dialect of Renalean. His tone sounded like a denial and a plea. Markus winced and took a step back.

“Everyone out,” he said quietly. “Find Zalvetta if you can.” Ashe gave him a cautious look but didn't question him. She grabbed Thog's wrist and tugged him outside after her, Inien following close behind.

“Where _is_ Zalvetta?” Inien asked once they had closed the door behind them. Thog frowned.

“He should have been back there with Gregor as soon as the first little thing set him off and there's no way he's miss something like fucking- _that._ ” Thog gestured at the closed door behind him.

“I'm going back to Kier and Charoth.” Ashe said. Her tone sounded snappish as she ran a frustrated hand over her hair. She did not trust how _quiet_ the inn had become. She practically bolted down the corridor to her room.

“Ashe? Is everything ok?” Kier asked when she entered the room. “Are the others safe? I haven't seen anything, Charoth's been sitting quietly in the corner, is everyone safe?” Ashe glanced to the side.

“Zalvetta's unaccounted for and Gregor's having a rough time recovering but Markus, Thog and Inien are ok for now,” she said. In the corner Charoth called attention to himself by squirming his way out of the blanket cocoon Ashe had made for him.

She walked quickly over and picked him up. He immediately latched onto her. She felt a pang of guilt run through her as he began to cry soft soundless sobs. Gently she rocked him, trying her best to assure him that she was fine, that he was safe and that she had only left him alone for the short while she did because she had to.

“ _I'm right here, you're safe, I promise_.” Kier gave her a confused look, but then she didn't blame him. He would, after all, certainly not understand Meathean. Charoth on the other hand calmed quickly. The soothing syllables of the familiar language coaxing him back into a calmer mood. He still clung to her like she was a lifeline, but then she couldn't blame him. The night had been tough on everyone. She'd wagered even Inien had had it worse than she let on.

***

Markus breathed out slowly. Gregor's breathing was a slight bit calmer and he'd given up on going after his glaive. He plainly felt safer, at least, and that was a start. He looked up at Markus, his gaze still somewhat unfocused, fixed in that second reality the Mare had created for him.

Markus pulled his water skin from within his cape and handed it towards Gregor. He smiled, or rather he put the long practised mask of a smile on his face. He hoped it would be enough to reassure Gregor because at that moment he really, really didn't feel like smiling.

“You ready to come back to us?” he asked softly. Gregor reached out a trembling hand towards the water skin, hesitating and twitching backwards for a second before taking it. He fumbled with the cap for a moment, trying to get it loose before giving up and letting it fall onto the bed beside him.

“ _Where am I_?” he asked, still stuck in speaking Renalean. Markus, thankfully, knew something of the language. He sat down on the edge of the bed and gestured calmly towards the water skin.

“May I?” he asked. Gregor pushed it towards him wordlessly. He smiled and loosened the cap before handing it back to Gregor, who took it and drank like someone who had not had a drop to drink in two days. He completely emptied to water skin and when he was done his eyes looked somewhat clearer. He shivered, as if taken by a sudden chill and looked about the room.

“Gregor?” Markus asked.

“Is Ashe ok?” Gregor asked. He looked scared as he searched Markus' face for an answer. Though what answer he found there Markus didn't know. Nor could he focus on that mystery in the moment, too taken by his own confusion.

He had to be quite honest those were _not_ the first words he'd expected Gregor to speak in the common tongue. Not when, if what Markus had been able to gather was correct, someone wearing Ashe's face had taken the role of villain in his nightmare.

“She's... she's fine,” he said, hoping that the truth would reassure Gregor. His mind immediately saw fit to remind him of the three mysterious claw marks running down her back but he calmly judged that now was probably not the best time to bring that up.

As soon as those words left Markus' mouth Gregor collapsed back into his bed a puppet whose strings had been cut. He stared up at the ceiling for a few long, drawn out seconds as he just breathed. Markus' smile was more genuine now, relief beginning to spread through him. Gregor was coming back to himself.

“You're sure?” he asked, looking up at Markus. He looked tired. Not physically so, more as if he had lived a years of hardship within the span of one night. He looked tired and older than he had any right to be.

“I'm sure,” Markus said in a tone that left no room for doubt. Gregor breathed out, sitting slowly back up.

“Our friends...” he said slowly. “Their names are Kier, Thog and Inien, right?” Markus nodded.

“I mean we've only known Inien for a very short time but sure,” he said. Gregor nodded slowly.

“Thog's the Heir to the Faerie Realm throne...” he muttered this more to himself than to Markus. He was beginning to properly shake off the remnants of the nightmare. It had been so real then, but the sinister figure in the mask was just a figment of his imagination.

“I'm alive,” Gregor moved his arms and legs carefully, as if testing them. Then he looked over at Markus. He leaned over to tap one of Markus' horns. “You're alive. It really was just a nightmare.” He picked up the water skin again only to remember it was empty and sheepishly hand it back to Markus.

“It's fine,” Markus assured him, taking it back.

“Zalvetta...” Gregor said the name like he was saying it for the first time. “He's here too,” Gregor nodded to himself. Nightmares he knew well. Occasionally they could overwhelm him but he had found ways of getting through even the toughest ones. This had been different, though. He'd never been stuck in a nightmare's reality so long before.

“Yeah,” Markus frowned. Gregor's eyes landed on the corpse of the Mare by the side of his bed. He lifted his eyes to Markus again, real worry in them now.

“Where's Zalvetta?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like everyone to know that while I was writing the end of this chapter (from the beginning of the first scene with Gregor to the very end) I was listening to [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AzsuqwuOP98) on repeat.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Big and Powerful](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8261095) by [invertedhavoc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/invertedhavoc/pseuds/invertedhavoc)




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